When Love Goes Wrong
by Shinsei-Kokoro
Summary: His plan had been to make her fall for him. Certainly not the other way around. DMHG
1. Lovely Girl

**Title: **When Love Goes Wrong

**Author: **Shinsei Kokoro

_Chapter 1: Lovely Girl

* * *

_

She had been ready for everything all her life. Whether an exam, an assessment, running off on another adventure with Harry and Ron, or even stealing ingredients from Professor Snape's office. She could stay away reading a book for hours on end, remain tucked in a library corner inching through the restricted section for several days, concentrate steadily on stitching and sewing for lovely house-elves. She was organized. And she knew it. She _lived_ on remaining prepared.

But this…this she wasn't ready for.

**Winter Escapade Ball**

**Date: **11th December

**Time: **6 pm – 2 am

**Venue:** Great Hall, HOGWARTS

**IMPORTANT: **Only senior students allowed. Must have partners. And attire appropriately to the dress code.

If it was anything, Hermione Granger did _not_ do balls or dances. It was a preposterous idea! And stuffing herself in a gown was the last thing on her mind. Besides, she was sure to have put on a few pounds from last summer at the Burrows. And there was no way she was going to be dancing around with a bulging stomach while the rest of the girls had managed to remain trim and thin.

"Hermione! Give that book a rest will you?" Lavender's giggles rocketed across the room, allowing a little twitch to form above the brunette's brow. She was all but aware of the flying parchment that had been circling around the dorms and lecturing out the information of the ball in a mild sing-song voice.

"And do what? Fawn upon the idea of becoming a princess for one night? No thank you." the witch scoffed sarcastically before digging her nose just a little deeper into her book. After all, Adalbert Waffling's _A Magical Theory _had been through a tragedy to get into her hands. No way was she going to abandon her sole purpose for living and skip across the room like a mad girl on fire.

"Oh Hermoine." Ginny latched onto an arm, "Come on! You've got to be excited about this." The red-headed Weasley had run up into the dorm at just the arrival of the news. And by the enchanting glow on her face, Hermoine knew she was just as over the moon as the rest of the girls

"Actually, I'm not." Busily, Hermoine propped her elbow down on the bed, terribly wishing she had directly gone to the library after dinner and not come back to her room.

"I think that you are." A red-faced Parvati bounced down on the end of the bed, flipping her thick ebony hair over her shoulder, "And I also think that right now you're mentally coming up with ways to ask Ron out."

"I am not!" came the indignant snap, while at the same time came a protest from Lavender as well.

"I mean," Lavender cleared her throat hastily when eyes fell upon her, "Offcourse she's not _thinking_ about that. She's…she's—reading a book!"

And while the rest of the girls didn't wipe their smiles off, Hermoine couldn't help but narrow her eyes at the girl. No matter what, she was obviously not thinking about Ron. Or even the ball for that matter. Instead she had been deeply engrossed about prohibited magical spells and their histories.

"So what colour do you think you might wear?" Ginny continued to prod at her back, "I think black is too tedious. And red was just worn by every other girl at the Yule Ball."

"I think I might wear a blue." Parvati leaned back onto the wall of the single bed.

"I saw a pale yellow one at Diagon Alley." Lavender pulled back her hair into a knot, "Hopefully I'll be able to get my hands on it before anyone else can."

Ginny, who didn't fail to notice the frustration building up in Hermoine '_accio'_d _A Magical History_ and didn't loose any time in darting across the room with her quick feet, "_I_ personally think you should go for a beige Hermoine. You've already had your share of blue from last time."

"Ginny!" the Gryffindor prefect moaned from her bed as she gave way and plowed her head into her hands, "Give it back."

"Uh-uh." The red-head shook her finger like her mother usually did, "Not until after we have a full-fledged discussion about this. After all, we just have a week to prepare for it."

Groaning loudly, Hermoine pushed herself back on her behind, "Who cares! Besides, a week is a lifetime. And why can't this _full-fledged discussion_ wait until tomorrow?"

"Because," Parvati sidled up beside her, "This weekend is Hogsmead," then Lavender piped in with an identical grin, "And next Saturday will not be enough time in scrounging for a gown."

"For Merlin's sake!" Hermoine threw back her curls from her face, "I'm not even _going_!"

"Oh yes you are!" the three girls chorused at once. And no matter how much she growled and tried to block out their shrill voices, Hermoine was sure she'd be dreaming of being dressed like the Fat Lady by the end of it. The Yule Ball had been the start and the end for her. It was a miracle that someone like Victor Krum had asked her out last time. But if he had been a little _more_ nicer looking, he would have never looked twice at her.

Sighing, Hermoine attempted at catching little snippets of the conversation before she _did_ manage to start coming up with ways to hint Ron at asking her out. And the faster she got a date, the less miserable she'd feel at the end of the week.

* * *

Draco wasn't having a pleasant day. Far from it. The sweets his Mother would regularly post were delayed. His owl had nipped him rather painfully. Morgana, the girl he had had his eyes set on recently had been seen coming out of Blaise Zabini's dorm. And his hair was growing at a snail's pace!

"Accio!" Draco Malfoy held out his arm before draping himself in his robes, then strode out of the room all the while neglecting a strong urge to look into the mirror once again.

When last week, his growing hair had reminded him so much of his prisoned father, he had innocently decided to get a little hair-cut. But it turned out, that it had been shorter than necessary and that hadn't faired well with the young Malfoy. So after Draco had cursed the barber to hell and back for not keeping track of his self-operating scissors, he had managed to slick back his hair the way he normally would.

But ever since Morgana had whispered into his lips about how incredibly irresistible he looked with his blond locks falling over his eyes, he had decided last night to keep it un-slicked for the ball.

"Malfoy." Draco just about jumped out his skin as a feminine voice purred into his ears. Whirling around, he clutched his wand to hex the girl who just made him feel like a fool, but the words never came as a pair of arms threw themselves tightly around him. It was Pansy he was expecting.

_Morgana_. Her eyes were so fiery that he didn't get a warning before she jumped to meet his lips in a rough messy kiss.

Draco stumbled just a little, then when he felt a wall behind him he realized he was causing eyes to turn his way then hastily look away. Morgana had already slid her fingers behind his neck, and so before she could deepen the kiss anymore he grabbed her shoulders to push her back.

"Hey! Wha—," Morgana scowled, but when she felt the prod of a wand at her stomach, she stopped short with bewilderment entering her eyes.

"I just washed my mouth." His snarl was low but just loud enough for her ears. And needless to say, he actually had fun in watching her blue eyes sit back to pout.

Pocketing his wand, he didn't look back at her as he turned the corner. Nor did he have the time to wait for his two sluggish lackeys as his hunger wasn't merciful. So as he made his way to the Great Hall, he decided would just let Pansy have her way with him and take her to this ridiculous ball instead. After all, it would be rather shameful to not attend.

* * *

Being the Head Girl was the opportunity of a lifetime, and yet there were some times when Hermoine couldn't take advantage of that opportunity.

For example, no matter how sickening it was to watch two Slytherins make out, she couldn't do anything about it. Especially when one of them was a prefect and the biggest git alive. Malfoy had been so engaged in his public display of affection that thankfully he hadn't noticed her slip away.

If it had been a normal day otherwise, he would have stalked her to the Great Hall from behind, sneering and taunting her no matter what position she held over him. Offcourse maybe now it was just because he hadn't managed to become Head Boy after all. It hadn't been a nice memory. That day when she had been brought to Dumbledore's office along with Terry Boot from Ravenclaw to be announced as the head prefects. Then come back out with Malfoy standing there seething with rage and fury.

It had almost been funny.

She had almost expected him to be Head Boy. Almost dreaded about the power he would have over the rest of the school and the way he would misuse his advantage, but apparently Dumbledore had thought it through.

She had been delighted over the fact that her night patrols would include intelligent talk in between her and Terry, rather than squabbles between her, Malfoy and his inflated ego. And how right she had been.

By the time she got to the Great Hall, Ron had already wolfed down half his breakfast, ignorant of little crumbs stuck to the edges of his mouth. Harry was busy forking his eggs around, looking thoughtful as ever. Sometimes she felt as if he thought a tad too much.

"Good morning." She cleared her throat before taking her seat opposite them.

"'Mornin." Ron managed through a full mouth, while Harry just looked up and mumbled a hello.

Clearing her throat once more, Hermoine turned her attention to Ron, or at least to his eyes, "Um…so I guess you guys heard about the ball?" she managed a squeak before downing her orange juice.

Harry, who looked up at that word was silenced by Ron's blabbering, "Can't wait for it! And this time, I _will_ be asking the good girls out before they get taken!" his declaration was so heartfelt that Hermoine couldn't help but feel warmth soaring through her chest. Last time, after the Yule Ball, the two of them had had a quarrel over the same fact. The fact that Hermoine had agreed to Victor Krum. And the fact, Ron had been planning to use her like the last resort.

But this time, he would ask her. That twinkle in his eyes just said it.

Finally managing on keeping her flushed cheeks on rest, she turned to Harry who yet had to pick his fork into his mouth, "Who will you be asking Harry?"

"Huh?" the boy looked up at her strangely, then casted a wary glance at Ron before quickly replying, "Not sure yet…we—err have an entire week for it, right?"

"I know." Hermoine sighed as she looked back down at her breakfast, "That's what I told Ginny." And so just like that, she missed out on the horrified expression that had passed over Harry Potter's face.

* * *

He wasn't ashamed to admit it. Draco was checking out all the Slytherin girls at his table. He did it on a daily basis, but today was for an important reason. While Pansy Parkinson chatted away animatedly, he let his eyes glide over any suitable girl he had missed out on in his own house. Contraire to popular opinion he knew for sure that Slytherin girls were the best. They had the looks, the attitude, and the…rest.

Millicent Bulstrode sat a few chairs away, engaged in a heavy conversation with a boy next to her. She was decent looking, but if only she wasn't so manly. Scarlett MacDougal sat on the other end. She was small, blonde, cute dimples, but she was a tighter leech than Pansy. Rose Curtis was two chairs from his right. She was strong, powerful, but it would be great if she could eat with her mouth closed. Then there was Vivian Warrington on his right, shifting her gaze onto him every few seconds. But she was a junior and he'd have her protective older brother to talk to if he ever miss-handled her. He played as a Beater in his Quidditch team and there was no telling what accidents he could cause.

"Draco, are you listening?" Pansy's sickening sugary voice cajoled from his side, to which he responded mechanically just like he did everyday.

"Yes. I think green suits you better." He drawled, then caught onto the grin Blaise Zabini was passing his way. Normally he would have ignored him, and with the image of Morgana coming out of his room still fresh in his mind, he should have most like at least hexed the guy from below the table. A low blow, but at least it would be worth seeing the guy with boils and pus drooling down his face. But it seemed needless to care anymore. She was just another pathetic girl after his money, and he would most likely be wasting his energy.

Blaise who had hurried out of his own seat, pushed through and managed a seat just beside Draco. Vivian didn't care. As long as she had another pretty face to stare at from the corner of her eyes.

Stiffening lightly, he pretended to pay attention to Pansy on his side.

"Hey. Have you thought about it?" Blaise's voice was rushed.

"Thought about what?"

"Who're you gonna ask?" Blaise muttered, as if meaning to be under the hearing of Pansy Parkinson.

"Parkinson." Draco set down his glass. No girl had yet caught his eye, and it was beyond frustrating. To his luck, Pansy was chatting away with the girl next to her about a green gown or whatever.

But Blaise went on unsurprised, "Guess who I'm gonna ask out?"

Scowling, Draco shrugged. _This shouldn't be a hard one._ Maybe now he could tell him about how his girlfriend had just been in such close touch with him just minutes ago. Kissing him in public too.

"Hermoine Granger."

"_What_!" his drink all but managed to come back out of his nose, "The _Mudblood_?"

"Shhh!" Blaise hissed furiously when heads turned his way.

"_Are you bloody insane?_" Draco couldn't care less about who heard, all he wanted to know was if his ears were working right.

"Yes. No. Maybe." Blaise's grin was ugly. "I'm gonna snatch her away." He gave a little triumphant laugh before adding, "And Potter and Weasel will never know what hit them."

Curling his lips in disgust, Draco pushed away Pansy's attempt to pat her handkerchief to his mouth, "You're taking your chances with _filth_? Fine, be my guest."

But Blaise quietly sat back in his chair, that small smile dancing on his face, "Actually, I wouldn't call her filth. I think she's quite lovely."

"_Lovely?_" Draco bit out with revolt, "I take it back. You _are_ insane." Then with another push at Pansy's wrist he sneered, "Wait till everyone hears. I suggest you rethink now before you become a laughing stock."

Rolling his eyes, Blaise shrugged, "The word would be envied Draco. Granger's cute, witty and smarter than you if I can recall. Besides," he paused with a low brow, "I've heard of lots of guys making plans to ask her out. I'll just have to get to her before they do."

Scowling darkly, Draco pushed away his breakfast, "She's a Mudblood whose tongue is more tainted than her heritage. And I'll doubt she'll even let you breath the same air she breaths."

"Your concerns are touching," Blaise chuckled, "But once I'm through with her, we'll be sharing things other than just air." And with that, he pushed back his chair and left the table.

Eyes scanning, Draco almost expect him to stroll to the Gryffindor table, but Blaise Zabini didn't look back once when he walked out of the Great Hall.

"Draco?" Pansy's pout reached his ears, "What's wrong with you? What did he say?"

"Nothing." He could hear himself mutter, but he couldn't stop his eyes from wandering to the opposite table where the girl with a shock of curls sat. He couldn't believe it. He never knew Blaise would risk such humiliation. To ask _her_ out would be worse than social suicide. She was a _Mudblood_. The lowest in society's eyes. The lowest of all mongrels.

And where did that rat get off calling her lovely? She was a bookworm. Had no life whatsoever. A snobby-know-it-all. Had common brown eyes. Buck-teeth. And that hair…with that thick volume, he wouldn't be surprise if he could pull out one rotting corpse after another out of it.

And yet, as he sat there, moodily sipping from his goblet, he couldn't help but imagine the Mudblood coming out of Blaise's dorm, like Morgana had this morning. Hair disarrayed than it already was. Her nightgown wrinkled. And face flushed.

For a second, Draco thought he might as well puke rather than imagine the Mudblood at all. After all, it wasn't his problem. Blaise Zabini could do whatever he wanted to. Even if it meant taking the annoying, insufferable little wretch to the ball.

So with that in mind, he went back to inspecting girls…this time on the Ravenclaw table.

* * *

Till now, Hermoine had never understood the full meaning of rejection. But as she watched Neville nod numbly at her, with a forced smile stretched upon his face, she felt like almost slapping herself.

The poor boy had been making it quite obvious throughout Potions. Sending her hints. About how the howler had woken him up this morning. About how he would be able to get his hands on better robes this time. About how no one had asked him yet. For Merlin's _sake_, even about the _colour_ of his robes. And then at the end of the lessons, when she was walking behind in deep thought behind Ron and Harry, she had felt him tap on her shoulders.

To her frustration, her so called friends had been so engrossed in a Quidditch match between Hungary and Germany that they hadn't even noticed that they had left her behind. And then there was this awkwardness.

Neville had been shifting from one foot to another. His face was flushed crimson, and he looked as though he were about to burst.

For a second of confusion, Hermoine had been rather worried that he might faint from excess blood reaching his brains, but he did the least expected thing. He asked her out to the ball…_again_.

The '_again'_ was from during the Yule Ball, where she had politely refused his offer as she already had a date.

But this time, this time Hermoine was left unguarded. She had to swallow once, then twice. Then when she though that his face couldn't get any redder, a strange smooth voice had spoken up for her.

"I'm sorry, but that would be impossible," it sounded so rude that Hermoine was thankful to the heavens that it wasn't her own. Instead she felt the speaker's presence right behind her at which the witch spun around flinching.

He was a Slytherin boy. That's all she knew from the green tie. And as for who he was, all she knew was that he was one of Malfoy's worshippers. Zabini something. His name was always called out last on the register. She vaguely recalled him being one of the guys in her Potions class.

"Huh?" Neville's voice echoed at the same time as hers.

For a second, Hermoine stood herself firm, then found herself taking a step back in disgust and alarm just in case Zabini was to pull out a wand out of nowhere and hex her. Or Neville.

"Didn't she tell you?" Blaise's voice was smooth as silk before he glanced down at her, "She's already taken."

Confusion rolled into her, but one look at Neville's faltered wane smile and Zabini's gleaming eyes, told her that her decision had been made for her.

"Neville," she started, "I'm so—,"

"No." the Gryffindor quickly cleared his throat, "No. It's okay." Neville was trying to look anywhere but at her and the Slytherin behind her. "I mean. It's—okay. Um. I'll…I'll see you in the common room." And without as much as another backward glance the boy was out of her sight.

_Oh God._ Hermoine was close to following after him and explaining, but then she whirled around to glare and snap at the Slytherin, "Why on Earth did you do that!" But for a question as demanding as that, Hermoine wasn't expecting an answer. Instead she tightened her grasp around the wand in her pocket before snapping once more, "And who are you!"

Zabini didn't look taken back. Instead, he was beaming positively with hands disappearing in his pockets. "I just offered you a mere helping hand. That's all."

"_That's all?_" Hermoine heard herself thunder, "You just happened to have dug your nose into a conversation that was nowhere near related to you! Who are you to interfere!"

"Relax your pretty horses," the dark haired boy busily rolled his eyes, then flashed her his award-winning smiles, "I was just helping you from breaking Longbottom's poor heart. And who better to hear it from than me?"

"And pray tell me," Hermoine could feel her fingers trembling to curse him, "Why would a Slytherin like you care and help for a Gryffindor like me and him?" Her anger was unearthing, and for a moment she feared hexing the boy through and through.

"Because…" Blaise made the word roll on his tongue, "I was on the spur of asking you myself."

"Asking me what?" she scowled tersely.

He rolled his eyes once again, "For the being the brainiest girl around here, you sure can be dense." She went white with rage as soon as she heard that, "I meant asking you myself…" then when he noticed her confusion hadn't hesitated, he sighed and said in a very slow voice, "…to the ball."

Blaise stood there watching interesting emotions flicker over her face in the mere time interval of half a minute. And then before he knew it, her face was contorted strangely. It was surprising really. Never had he been able to read a person off so clearly.

"Zabini." Hermoine heard herself growl, "I think you've lost any marbles in the head a Slytherin might have." And with that, she turned back around to hurry out of the hallway. She didn't give Blaise any warning before she scrambled through doorways, then rushed into her History of Magic class all the while muttering heated curses.

Now this was it.

This was _exactly_ what she just needed. Nodding her head down, Hermoine groaned heavily. Although sarcasm wasn't healthy, she didn't know what else would rub away the anger in her.

It was easily feasible to know that the second Neville would see Ron and Harry, he would blab off everything in the fraction of a second. And then Ron, being the impulsive brat he was, would most obviously start giving her the silent treatment for not telling him she already had a date…and then…then, that would mean that he would never ask her.

Then he would end up asking Padma again. Or maybe even have that _affair_ with Lavender all over again.

It made her sick. So…annoyed. She was a Head Girl damn it. Head Girls _had_ to be present. And without a date…without a date she would look so…so miserable. So…unwanted. Pathetic. And that would just give everyone more of a reason to hate her.

* * *

The book in his lap was glaring at him furiously. So furiously that he could almost feel his head reeling.

"Draky, Draky, Draaky."

Something had absolutely gone wrong in his last experiment. Either he had added a pint too much of crystal powder or a drop too much of rat blood. Now, if only he could—

"Oh Draky, Draky, Draaky."

—coax Snape into letting him do this experiment just one more time then he might just—

"Draky. Oh, oh, Draaky."

It was never easy to say Pansy was a good singer. She had this squeaky voice that got even louder when she actually squeaked. And with her humming that ridiculous tune next to his ear, Draco found it next to impossible to make out anything of his Potions notes.

It was frustrating to sit there. For once there were not too many students around. The fire was warming his toes. The room was dim just the way he liked it. And the cushions behind him were so soft. But if only it wasn't for that tune. That _stupid_ tune that was riling him up bit by bit.

For a second he had half his mind made up to just put up a silencing spell around him. But then that would only make Pansy leech onto him even more, demanding what was wrong with him, why he was avoiding her and the usual sort. Even though her voice wouldn't be audible, there would still be her face that would pout and squint.

And if he were to retire, then there would be no peace in his dorm either. And sleep was the last thing on his mind, especially when he had a delaying essay due.

His options numbered, Draco looked into his book deeply before snapping it shut, "That's it."

"Really?" Pansy had perked up beside him, "Are you done? _Now_ can we go to your room?"

Struggling to keep himself from pointing his wand at her, Draco stood up straight, pulling apart from her grasp, "I didn't say I was done." He tore away from her before he though she would latch onto his robes, "I'm just going to the library. I'll see you at dinner."

"But Draco," Pansy moaned with a sulk, "You know I don't like going to library. It's so…ugh…dusty and full of cobwebs and dirt. Surely you can skip studying for one night…" As expected she was inching forward to grab onto his robes, but Draco had already made his way over to the Slytherin's common room portrait hole.

"Then busy yourself doing something. I'll be back later."

Draco didn't wait to hear another word. Not another whine. While there was no comfort in the library, at least it was Pansy-free. So grinning widely to himself and his book tucked under his arm, he made his way through the corridors with nothing but the bright fire on the walls to guide him.

* * *

She felt she could cry no more. Not cry specifically, but moan and groan.

Hermoine had lodged herself at her favourite table in the library, where the fire had been set roaring behind her back with curtains drawn closed. And yet, being there with the dusty smell of books wafting around her, her annoyance wasn't wearing any thinner.

She was angry. Yes. So angry that if she wasn't a Head Girl, she would have run after Ronald Weasley setting fire to his hair and screaming every hex she could think from the top of her head at him. He had to be the most thickest person ever. The most stupidest. The most idiotic.

The second Hermoine had set foot into the common room after her last class for the day, Lavender had skipped to her squealing and eyes dancing, screaming at the top of her lungs, "Ron ask me out!"

And if all the girls gathered hadn't been smiling ear to ear, she would have pulled a tantrum right then and there. As in, surely there must have been a mistake. She'd been dropping hints all day long. Ironically, she had even ended up telling the story scene to scene of how Neville Longbottom had asked her out only to be disturbed by Zabini's weird invitation. But Harry and Ron hadn't seemed a bit surprised. They hadn't flinched an inch, and to make matters worse, for a moment, she had even thought Ron was about to ask her himself. But in the end he only managed to ask if he would borrow her Charms homework.

But no. Instead, he had gone for Lavender. The girl she had seen him snogging almost every minute of his day last year. That girl whose soft auburn hair fell in such graceful layers behind her. Whose deep brown eyes glistened with wildness and cheek.

However she on the other hand had her hair like a magpie's nest and eyes that fell on only books. Hermoine had decided admitting to herself. While she topped classes and was busy with Head Girl duties and trying to be the perfect student teachers would love, Lavender was mischievous and loved gaining attention of her peers. She was spontaneous and never short of a giggle. She was slim and tall, always bright…and always the one to capture Ron's attention.

Slamming another book down into a pile, Hermoine pushed back a stray curl and her head tight in her hands.

No. She was _positively_ not jealous of Lavender. This was the girl who giggled in every situation. Who managed to make a mock out of every situation. This was the same girl who annoyed Hermoine to bits. The same girl would chat away into the late hours of the day with Parvati and leave Hermoine to put a Silencing sleep just so she could get a bit of a shut eye.

Groaning lightly, Hermoine pulled out a worn out binder from the stack of large books surrounded on her table. Groping for her quill, she found it sitting under a berth of unguarded parchments. On a usual night those towering piles of books would be there so that no one else would get their hands on them while she was there, but tonight? Tonight, it was only so that no passerby could see her frustrated face.

* * *

Those books were missing.

_Potions and Spells. Spell Gone Wrong. Potions: A Theory. Practice with the Cauldron._

_None_ of them were there. Kicking a shelf, Draco cursed heavily under his breath. It just had to be his nasty luck. Books that weren't on loan had to turn out missing. And who on earth would be reading all of them! There weren't many students in his class. Especially those who would bother coming to the library to research on a stupid homework essay. Draco winced at how those words impeccably referred to him, but just brushed it aside by puling out another book before pushing it back into its slot.

This was getting nowhere. He had been over through out the entire section. And it had all been for nothing. He had even bothered asking Madame Pince, and even that had been for nothing. It pissed him off to no end. Where the _hell_ were those books?

Letting his finger trace over covered spines, Draco stopped under another section when a red lettering caught his eye.

_Unguarded Potions._

Pulling it out with his wand, he turned the thick book over to flip through dusty pages. They were yellowing and if he squinted hard enough, Draco found out he could just about make out the slanted brown lettering.

Sighing in content he turned back to the shelf, fingers already scrounging for other such random books. He had only been keeping one eye on the shelf and the other on the book. He didn't realize how his attention could have gone through the slot in the shelf. He didn't realize why he suddenly couldn't tear his eyes away from the top of messy brown curls.

For a second he stood there rooted to the spot, his wand flipping pages over but eyes never on it. And then before he realized what he was doing, his wand had pushed the book back in into the slot. Then pocketing it in his robes, he found himself making his way around the entire shelf.

Hermoine Granger had her nose in a book, with several others sitting around her. The fire behind her was blazing and roaring warmly, and she looked to be concentrating so hard that his presence was still concealed.

However unknowingly, Draco remembered the words from Blaise that had been echoing in his head all day long. '_I think she's lovely.'_

_

* * *

_

**§ђϊη§зϊ-Кσќσѓσ **

_Hmmm...hope that was alright for my first try at Harry Potter. I'm not big on writing fics for HP but I thought I might give it a try. I happen to adore the Draco/Hermoine relationship, so...I was just thinking one day and zap...this is what I got. I'm planning on keeping it short and to the point. _XD  
_So tell me if you guys liked it or not._


	2. Somehow

**Title: **When Love Goes Wrong

**Author: **Shinsei Kokoro

_Chapter 2: Somehow_

* * *

He didn't know what it meant. The words Hermione Granger and lovely had never seemed to fit into the same line. And yet, as he stood there or rather standing tall, he wondered how the presence of books could ever be over-whelming than his own.

But Draco didn't have to wait long. Because when Hermione looked up to smooth the curls off her face, it was rather hard not to notice him standing there, leaning against the shelf, and looking so self-important that she had to groan.

"What do _you_ want?"

"Nothing." He smirked, "Just noticing how _lonely_ the Mudblood looks." _That's right. She is _not _lovely._

Hermione gave him a snarled smile, then tossed back the hair from her shoulders, "I'm sure it's nothing you haven't seen before." Her observant eyes followed his moment. They followed him, until he stopped by her desk.

"Aha. So _you_'re the little thief." Draco had grabbed off the first book on the many piled beside her and smiled triumphantly as he read the words _Practice with the Cauldron _off the front cover. "Should have known it."

"Excuse me?" Hermione inched protectively around the papers scattered.

"Actually," she watched his hand finger over the spines of a few other books, "You seem to have taken the whole lot."

"What do you want Malfoy?" she growled as she pulled back the book his hands.

"You know," he didn't know why, but he didn't move the firm grip off the book, "These books are not only for the purposes of annoying students who can't find anything better to do with their time. There are other students here and you most surely can't hog of all of these for yourself."

A wave of embarrassment managed to creep up her cheeks but Hermione only held on tighter, "If you were looking for these to finish off your Potions essay, then you must have already finished it by now. Which means that you would have no need for these books, and you're here to only annoy the hell out of me."

She looked so stubborn that it was impossible not to roll his eyes, "On the contraire…_Mudblood_. I have a life. And I don't spend my nights doing homework on the day it was given…unlike some people."

Hermione set down her quill quickly, "Will it make you feel better if I let you know that I haven't done my essay yet either?"

Draco raised his brows in surprise then covered it with a sly grin, "Still doesn't prove to me that you have a life."

Growling under her breath, Hermione was up on her feet, letting go of the book and slamming her hands onto the desk, "I don't have to prove anything to you Malfoy. But if you really want that book, do me a favour. Take it. And get out of my face." Her voice was hard and laced with fury, but it was so hushed that Draco weighed the book in his hands restlessly. _I've had enough of your House for today. First the lackey Zabini and now the git himself._

It was quite a sight when Hermione Granger had to muffle her screams in order to follow pathetic library rules. Her face was flushed and had eyes sparkling with deep ferocity. It seemed nonsense, but if he took a closer look, her hair seemed to have gotten a bit tamer. Her face was vibrant and full of colour. For a second Draco found himself a little hot under the collar, then swallowing quickly he cleared his head of such atrocious thoughts.

"Now that would be a problem." he immediately covered for his turning thoughts.

"Pray tell me why." She groaned before sighing in exasperation.

"Because I'll be needing at least five of these books."

Hastily, Hermione moved closer to the books, "Oh no you don't. One book and that's it. It's not like you'll be doing any work from it either."

"Oh really? So now a filthy Mudblood has the right to question what I do?"

Her eyes narrowed to slits, and she inhaled deeply while chewing onto the bottom of her lip. It was her way to control herself. "As a matter of fact, yes. She does have a right."

"What sort of right?" he lowered his gaze at her.

"The right as a Head Girl to take points off your house for being such an insufferable git." She growled.

Draco tore her down with his eyes for a second, then cocked his head to chuckle, "Fascinating."

"The fact that you're an insufferable git?" Hermione asked sweetly.

The Slytherin smiled coyly, "Don't tell me things I already know." Then his smile grew wider, "I'm talking about the fact of how intriguing it is for small minded people to find you—a Mudblood at that, as an…as an interesting alternative for a ball date."

"Malfoy," Hermione found herself taking a shaky breath, "Take the book, and get out of here."

"Tell me Granger." Draco couldn't help himself. She was seething so fairly that he couldn't resist asking, "Does it disgust you to see Weasel and his girlfriendtogether? To see them snogging in front of your face?"

"Malf—,"

"Does it? I always thought the two of you would make a wonderfully miserable family together." His gray eyes smirked at her, "Your pathetic children, with their dirty clothes and unwashed hair. A fair mixture of filth." He watched her eyes glaze and brows furrow together, "Living in a broken down cottage, poor for all time. I always—,"

"Furnuncu—!" the words tore out of her mouth the second the Gryffindor drew her wand out.

"Protego!"

"Petrificus tota—,"

"Expelliarmus!"

In a rush of horror, Hermione witnessed her own wand zoom to the other side of the room.

For a moment there was silence. For a moment all her eyes were seeing were the tip of Malfoy's wand. When he slowly lowered his arm, she was given sight to his small smile. Then he had to go and open his mouth, "So much anger in a little Mudblood. And all because of a stupid Weasel."

"For the love of—!"

"It's okay Granger. It's okay to admit jealousy." His smile was so cruel, Hermione realized there could never be anyone as vile as him.

"Get out of here." She didn't look at him.

"Pathetic girls do go for pathetic boys. It's natural."

"Get out of here Malfoy!" she thundered.

Draco watched her blaze, then weighing the book in his hand, he pocketed his wand, the smile never wiping off, "With pleasure. Associating with Mudbloods gets me sick in the stomach anyway."

With that, he was gone in a whirl of robes. He was gone out of sight. And it was only then that Hermione allowed herself to let out the breath she had been holding.

Slowly and numbly, she walked to her fallen wand. She didn't pick it up. Instead she fell beside it. Then finally, bringing a hand to her face, she lets little tears escape into it.

* * *

The Slytherin common room welcomed him openly with a warm fire. Draco rarely found himself in the midst of other Slytherins rushing through forgotten homework in the early morning. He had never sat on the couches conversing into the long hours of the day. He had never gushed over to the fire, rubbing hands together with fellow Slytherins and warming up by transfiguring mittens.

Draco snorted as he watched a few first years scribbling into their notebooks, looking panicked. Once again, it reminded him of a particular girl. One who hadn't lost that habit even through seven years.

"Draco!" Pansy shrieked as she grabbed onto an arm, "I waited for so long last night!"

And wait she probably did. Because after his little rendezvous with the Mudblood, Draco had summoned his broom to soar over the Owlery. He had flown as far as he always could, relishing in the way the chill wafts would sting his skin.

At the second, the clock had struck nine, he had flown in through his dorm window. So in the end, he had efficiently missed out on an opportunity with Pansy.

The Great Hall was hardly overflowing when Draco walked in. There were only a few dozen Gryffindors and for that he was glad. They were a pain, and with their insistent nonsense chatter, he found himself eager to hex them all into silence.

Blaise Zabini was the first one to catch his eyes, and snarling to himself, the young Malfoy made his way to his so called friend. Morgana was there by his arm, practically sucking life away from his mouth.

Nobody else seemed to care that they were having a full-on snog session by the breakfast table. Turning his expressions off, he fell into a seat opposite the couple and promptly cleared his throat.

Breakfast was already feasted, but somehow Draco couldn't help himself to anything after what he had just seen.

Morgana was the first to unlock her lips, and when she caught sight of Draco, her gaze froze and she immediately blushed, "Uh…D-Draco…hi."

Blaise, whose eyes were half lidded, snuggled his face into the crook of her neck, and didn't look up until Morgana pushed herself away a little. He looked up with a half-smile and pulled the girl further into his arms, "You're never this early Draco. But good morning."

Draco looked away from his pleasant smile to the girl who sat flustered opposite him.

"How did it go yesterday?" he smirked nonchalantly, "You know with Gran—,"

"Not so good." Blaise cleared his throat, before looking pointedly at the blonde, "But I will try again…_later_."

Draco sneered at him, "Really? I assumed you must have already lost game?"

A confused look passed over Morgana, but Blaise only smiled tersely, "I assure you, I haven't."

Shrugging, the blonde Slytherin got to his feet nimbly, then turned to look over his shoulders, "Better be quick then. Because hanging out with my sluts won't be getting you anywhere."

Draco only smirked at the two before he took his leave.

Blaise had to realize where he would hold his hands out to. And he had to realize that whatever girl he would get would always have gone through him first.

Yes, he was sizzling from underneath. Yes, he wished he could have snapped. But that would be shameful. It would be utterly shameful for Blaise or anyone to realize that girls just used him exactly like how he used them.

After picking up his books from his dorm and skillfully managing to avoid Pansy, he checked the Owlry once again. But there were no messages from his mother or any news about how his father was faring in Azkaban as of yet. None of his sweets.

And he needed a date. Not Pansy Parkinson as he had confirmed to Blaise. But someone else. Someone who no one could get. A girl so amazing that she'd make everyone drop their jaws when would enter the ball with him.

A girl who guys like Blaise Zabini had no chance of getting.

As he walked to his Dark Arts class, he couldn't help but notice the Golden Trio in front of him. Two pathetic boys and that one agonizing girl. Quarrelling as though there were no tomorrow with yellow and red scarves pulled tightly around their necks.

Offcourse he could have any girl he wanted. Draco snarled at that though. _Offcourse_.

And if Blaise Zabini had the nerve to go around snogging his girls, then he wasn't going to go picking out leftovers. He was a Malfoy. And a Malfoy would _never_ stoop that low.

"Oh come off it Ronald!" He barely just heard Hermoine Granger as they entered their class. "You know how much of a git Zabini is."

The sentence alone was enough to perk his attention. Shoving a student out of his way, Draco slipped into a seat just within his hearing range.

"You still should have hexed him." The Weasley argued under his breath as the Professor came bounding into the room, his robes bellowing until he settled himself in front of the class.

"It's a miracle I don't have your instincts then." The Mudblood murmured, getting a dark shade out of Ron.

They didn't speak another word as the class started to fill in.

Draco sat back in his chair, concentrating on the image of the back of Granger's head. It surprised him to no end about how much hair a little head like that could carry.

She was Head Girl. But so what? She wasn't the least bit attractive. She didn't even try to look appealing. No make-up. No hitching of skirt. No walking by swinging hips. No nothing. So why were there guys bent on asking this girl out? What was so special about her? She was smart. Had a little bit of sense, but that was where the qualities all ended. Gryffindor qualities were a nuisance. Who needed bravery when you could use a Slytherin's cunning demeanor to weasel your way out?

Class went on the least bit progressive. NEWT exams were coming up and they had just started revising. While other students remained intent on cramming, Draco relished at the part on how easy the Dark Arts came to him.

But back to the topic on the female population.

He knew he could get any girl. And if there were a hoard of guys like Blaise waiting to asking this Mudblood out, then he wouldn't stand by giving them the chance. He could have anyone. Even this muggle girl if it had to be. He would snatch her away himself before Blaise could ever get his hands of her.

So with that, Draco spent the rest of class watching Hermoine Granger scribble away into her book.

Last night he had played war with her, but from today, he would have to find a way to make the wench actually look up, smile appropriately and agree to be his date. If only to shove it into Blaise's face.

* * *

Hermoine was bored. Utterly bored.

There was a Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match coming up and all Harry and Ron seemed to talk about were techniques and angle of precision. At times frustration would built up rapidly when they would just ignore her the entire lunch and leave without even waiting for her to finish the last spoon of her beans.

Ron had become so ignorant, that he hadn't realized anything as of yet. She had been trying to ignore him profusely, but in the end what was the point of giving the silent treatment to a boy who hardly noticed she was even walking behind him.

Harry on the other hand, seemed to have developed a rather bad habit of taking out his invisibility cloak frequently after curfew. And he seemed to be getting a lot tidier. It came to a point that at dinner he came down with his hair _combed_.

No one else seemed to notice it as he happily chatted away with Ginny from across the table. No one seemed to notice the perfect partition on his head.

Lavender and Ron almost made a point to let everyone know that they were going out ready and steady. When Hermoine used to come back to her dorm room, Lavender would be talking non-stop about her Won-Won. And for some reason maybe even to spite Hermoine, Lavender had placed a wizard's photo frame of her and Ron. One where they were snogging, holding hands, hugging and laughing like clowns.

It was getting ridiculous. It seemed as if all her friends were changing and she was the only one being left behind.

Parvati had beamed and girlishly sighed for a few hours after being asked out by Dean Thomas. And when Hogsmead came, Hermoine sulked as she walked herself to the library.

Ginny had insisted upon her coming. And so had Parvati and Lavender. But Harry and Ron had just carried on ahead laughing that she would much rather as usual finish off next Wednesday's Charms homework.

_As if!_ Hermoine muttered darkly to herself as she excused herself past a couple of giggling juniors.

She had already finished that off yesterday.

* * *

Draco walked on aimlessly with Pansy hanging off his elbow like dripping sweat. He was on a lookout for a particular girl and quite frustrated that her bizarre mop of rusty brown hair was nowhere in sight. He had even sneered past Potter and his group once, but the damned girl had been nowhere in sight.

"And so she said she'll send it through the post this Thursday. I can't wait to try it on Draco! Oh, you're going to love it!" he merely acknowledged Pansy as she ranted on and on about her dress.

Then passing by a shop, his eyes fell upon two identical looking Gryffindor girls.

"Oh it's a shame she isn't here." One of them looked up into the window where a couple of simple dresses were hung with bright stickers flashing their prices.

"I know." The other girl looked wistful, "Only Hermoine would have pulled it off in a dress like that. Ginny was right. Beige is _so_ her."

The name made him glance up straight so quick that it almost gave him a crick in the neck.

So she wasn't here at all, the idiotic nerd. He could bet she was slaving away at the library, and if anything, taking advantage of the fact that she could grab all the best books before anyone could. Draco snorted as he looked at the absurd dresses hung. They looked cheap and lacked any style with either extremely low necks or gaudy patterns. There was definitely no way any date of his was ever wearing _those_.

As Pansy continued to ramble, Draco wondered if Hermoine had bought her dress yet.

* * *

She was finished with Maths homework a long time before the seniors starting filling back into school. Potions was the only one left, and Hermoine snidely smiled as she thought of Harry and Ron coming to class empty handed. For a few moments, Hermoine ached to see the two boys walk into the library teasing and annoying her. But they never came.

Dinner came and went, but she stayed poised in her seat, eyes forced to be trained on her book. If she were to go down there with them, they would just go on talking endlessly about the ball, or dresses, or dates, and then she would have to hold back from vomiting at the sight of Won-Won and Lavender being all cuddly.

Harry would stare at his dinner endlessly, then pick up enough courage to talk to Ginny. It was obvious why he always acted so flustered around the red-headed girl nowadays and Hermoine felt a little rise every time flirted as though there were no tomorrow. It was last year and people were getting it all over their head about this ball nonsense. None of her friends had even begun studying and with all the usual drama that was bound to come after the ball, they'd complain of not being able to concentrate.

Hermoine sighed as she fingered the ended of her book.

She could bet that everyone would have a date by the end of the week, maybe even Neville. And here she would be, probably sitting in the library on ball night itself. She was even more pathetic than Moaning Myrtle.

Hermoine quickly slammed her head down at the thought of roaming endlessly around the girl's bathroom in a few years.

* * *

She looked like a strangled writer who had been given a deadline. Hermoine Granger was indeed a sight for sore eyes. So soar that Draco swore his eyes would start bleeding.

While other girls were buzzing about matching shoes and dresses and hair styling spells, this girl was deeply engrossed in skimming through a book larger than her brain capacity.

Dinner had been awkward with Blaise attempting to laugh off his stand with Morgana and trying to handle Pansy's conversation at the same time. He hadn't seen her at dinner, but here she was. Legs folded underneath her on the chair and her brown feathered quill scratching the parchment so intently.

"Figured it would be you again." He cleared his throat to make his presence known, then smirked widely when a murderous glare was thrown his way.

"How can I please his royal 'stick-up-his-arse' today?" she trimly commanded, and Draco pretended to be shocked at her choice of words. But he wasn't the least bit surprised at her sour tone.

"By taking the stick out of your own arse offcourse."

She glared heatedly before looking back at her table and muttering, "I'm gonna hope that you'll be leaving before you bring out your immature acts."

"I'm anything but immature Granger." Draco interrupted her before she open her mouth again, "Are you still patrolling tonight?"

He watched her look indifferent then she shrugged elegantly, "Kimberly Griffiths wanted tonight's shift. So I swapped with her." She paused before look up with a scowl, "Why are you so interested about this all of a sudden?"

"McGonagall was making sure we had someone patrolling tonight." Draco said as he picked up a book recklessly. Offcourse he wasn't about to tell her that he had changed his own patrolling shift to tonight just so he could coax her into his offer. Griffiths would just have to do the patrolling by herself tonight.

"Please tell me you're not here again to try and take my books."

"_Your_ books?" Draco looked up with a laugh that made Hermoine cringe, "I don't see your name on anywhere of them." He flipped upon the book cover and pretended to skim through.

Hermoine seethed on the chair, her mind almost made up to jump over the table and pull every single one of those blonde locks out of the Slytherin's inflated head. The shorter locks were hanging on his forehead and she almost made a grab for them. Instead she yanked the book out of his grasp.

"Look for someone else to pester tonight Malfoy."

"This doesn't account as pestering. I'm just in need of a few of these books as you were utterly unwilling to let me have them yesterday."

For a second, Hermoine thought her head was about to explode. She had been sitting here since hours, untouched by mockery or even any human contact and having Draco Malfoy hear giving his statutory speech was making her skin crawl.

And while Harry and Ron, her own _friends_ couldn't be bothered to come looking for her, here was Malfoy out of all people.

"Fine." She bit out through a gritted jaw, "Take whatever."

His weird smile reach out into his face and she watched his long fingers trace gently over a couple of books. But before she had realized, he had resounded an 'Aha' and pulled out a book from a bottom of the pile.

"No!" she was up on her feet, before she knew it, "Not that book."

He glanced at her, then back at the book, "Why not?"

She knew it. She knew it right then. He was here to get a rise out of her. He was here to make sure her succumbing day would writher even more.

"Knowing how crazy you are about our Dark Arts class, I'm sure you must be already finished with that homework by now. So…so just…just take—"

"Yeah? And you and whose army has the right over these books?"

Bristling bitterly, Hermoine drew a hand back to pat the back of her shirt to feel her wand, "Malfoy, today's not been my day. I—"

"And I'd advise you not to touch your wand."

"And…why is that?"

"Because you know I'd be able to reach for my own faster than you ever could." He smiled for a moment and saw her mere attempts to give up the argument. It was obvious that she had been hit low today. The _Mudblood_ he knew would definitely have had more than a sleeve of snotty comments to make.

Draco smirked at her amused, "Actually, I think I'll make myself comfortable here…" his eyes glanced at the fire as he walked to the worn brown couch, "…by the fire."

Hermoine looked around desperately. No way did she want Draco Malfoy anywhere near her turned back. But she didn't want him gone with her books either. If she wouldn't finish this essay, then Snape would be privileged to give his snarky remarks.

"So…you want to _share_ these books?" Hermoine looked at him wearily. What was wrong with him? When had Malfoy ever approached her to share text books? What was he getting at?

Draco shrugged lightly, then pulled his legs over the little table in front of him, "Why not. I can get my work done this way." _And get the kick out of annoying you._

It was the weirdest she had ever seen him. Draco Malfoy actually agreeing to sit just a mere few feet away from the Mudblood. It astounded her. And to smooth her thoughts, she asked him just that, "You're willing to catch the Mudblood germs?"

Rolling his eyes, Draco gathered and turned out his books and parchments around him, "Don't be silly. That's why I'm sitting _here_. And you're sitting _there_."

Frowning, Hermoine turned onto another chair, "How convenient." She didn't trust Draco. But most of all, she wouldn't give him any advantage by having her back to him. There was no knowing what he had up his sleeve. Because she knew him. And Draco Malfoy never just came around doing homework sessions with her. He was up to something and she wanted to know what it was.

* * *

If he wasn't concentrating on what he was writing, he was thinking up of ways to annoy the girl who sat only a few feet away from him on the desk. She was looking up every few minutes, almost waiting to jump up at the second his hand would go anywhere near his wand.

Draco who had finished his essay only a few minutes ago, decided that levitating books out of the Mudblood's grasps had become an old enough joke already. Those were the best ways to make her growl in frustration. To break her concentration from the book. She would take in a sharp breath, bite the insides of her cheeks and stare down at him stonily.

And while Draco had finished his homework with three pages, Hermoine looked as if she were furiously finishing up the deadline on a book. Her fingers would flicker through this book, then another, then after Draco had finished levitating the books he was finished with, she would once again quickly go through the same books twice.

It was amusing. That's all it was. Amusing to watch the girl see at her work and yet making sure to glide her sharp eyes over him like a chore.

That was the only reason he was still there. That's the excuse Draco berated himself over. And the fact that the second he would go to his common room, Pansy wouldn't given him an inch of space.

And it felt good. Sitting there by the toasty fire. Feeling its warmth graze his skin. Comfortably on the deep couch, with feet back on the little table. And somehow…peaceful.

"Are you done?" her voice shifted his attention, and he looked up at her lazily.

"Almost." He drawled, but picked up his quill at the same time.

"Then what on Earth are you doing staring into the fire. It's almost ten." She chided.

"I happen to find the fire much more appealing than you." The words just came out of his mouth, and with that a scowl lifted her face. He felt satisfied as she gave him a glare before going back to scribbling.

Yes. It definitely felt good sitting there in the presence of a know-it-all Gryffindor. It would only be a matter of time until a Mudblood girl like Granger would succumb to him.

* * *

Malfoy had been acting rather strange. As words flowed out of her quill, Hermoine thought of how Harry and Ron would sputter in disbelief if they ever found out whom she had spent doing her homework with. Even the word 'strange' contradicted with her predicament. Because it was beyond strange. This was Malfoy who was sitting on the couch. Malfoy, the slime.

The Slytherin sitting there, not once scowling or spitting at her. But just…sitting…and staring into the fire. A torrent of red and orange splaying his blonde locks. His quill forgotten. His parchment forgotten. And looking so deep in thought.

He was still here. Acting like she had not just attacked him with curses yesterday. And…and he was sitting in _her_ presence. _Alone_ with her. There might have been distance between them, but Draco Malfoy had never willingly wanted to be in the same room alone with her unless had a list on ways to torment Hermoine 'Mudblood' Granger.

It was frustrating.

So frustrating that while he could sit there, all comfortable and still, her nerves were frazzled like live wires. She was crossing and uncrossing her ankles. Shaking her legs. Looking over unnecessary books. Scratching her forehead. And finally, she was up on her feet. Their previous encounter last night was just impossible to forget.

"I'm finished." When she set her quill down finally, she was hardly taken back to find him looking at her. He had been doing that a lot for the past half hour. Looking at the fire, glancing at her, back to the fire, back to her…that's how his gaze flowed. And maybe that's why she had been feeling a bit…awkward and…uneasy.

"Too bad." she almost heard him murmur, but that could have just been her imagination while he folded his parchment away.

For a moment, she sat on her chair, watching him watch the fire, then she tore her eyes away.

"So why the fraternizing?" the words flew out of her mouth as she made her way to the other side of the couch, and sat on the closest chair opposite the little table.

"You mean fraternizing with the enemy?"

"Yeah. With the enemy." She rolled her eyes. It seemed as if he had been familiarizing himself to muggle terms.

"I wasn't." his eyes swept over her, "Just trying to get my work done."

"Then why have you been here for the past hour, doing nothing when you're in fact, finished?"

His brows shot up slowly, then that small cruel smile flitted across his mouth, showing her the personally she had been used to for seven years, "Coming up with ways to hex your Golden Trio to the next world and beyond."

Snorting, Hermoine stood from the chair, before crossing her legs and sitting on the floor, "I wouldn't find that surprising." She said while stretching her fingers to the fire, as if to warm them up even more.

Draco watched her. Then his eyes fell on her brown curls that twisted past her shoulders. For a long time, he had thought that no one could ever have a worse hairstyle than Hermoine Granger. He remembered on the first few days of his time at Hogwarts, he would be in bed thinking whose hair lacked life the most: the Mudblood's or Professor Snape's?

But as he sat there, staring at her, Blaise's words ran through his mind again. _I think she's lovely_.

"Would you please stop it?"

Draco quickly looked up at Hermoine's face, "Stop what?"

"_Staring_ at me. It's not as if sitting here with you is weird, but you acting like that is making it even worse."

"You have nothing I could ever stare at Granger." He replied quietly, and then pulled his lips back watching her stiffen.

It was killing him to admit it even to himself. But he couldn't help it. He couldn't help the thoughts registering in his own head. She _was_ lovely…in a twisted sort of way.

"If you're not staring, then surely I must have something on my face. Because you're staring and I don't like people staring at me. At least the likes of you." Her dry voice broke his train of thoughts again.

He had to confess. That last bit pinched him a little. "I think you're imagining things. Maybe in hopes that I _would_ actually stare at you."

Scooting back a little from the flames, Hermoine pulled forward the little table so his legs would eventually fall off it without the support, "You come up with the strangest of all theories Malfoy. But enough of that. I've had more than my share of talking to Slytherins for this week."

He had been waiting for the opportunity for so long, that he couldn't hold back anymore. The second she mentioned the word 'Slytherin', the words came out like a smooth speech, "I hear you've been rejecting a lot of boys. _Slytherin_ boys too."

Hermoine sighed. She just knew it. One way or the other, every conversation always _had_ to lead to this stupid ball. Maybe that was the entire reason Draco Malfoy was here. Taunt her on the fact that she had no date. And both her best friends had been taken. By ones better than her.

"Just _one_ Slytherin boy thank you very much." Hermoine corrected instead, "Blaise Zabini. He should be your successor in annoying the daylights out of me."

Draco chuckled, then leaned forward a little, "I guess I have taught him a bit. But still? Wasn't he good enough for you?"

Blushing furiously, Hermoine quickly looked back into the fire, "Like you said, I don't fraternize with my enemies."

"But you don't have a date."

"I don't need one."

"The requirements are that you must have a partner."

"I sai—,"

"And it's not like you have a choice either. You _have_ to go to in order to fulfill your Head Girl duties. Even whether you like it not. And without a date, you must know how terribly idiotic you'll look. But I suppose you would have never rejected Blaise after you'd have found out who your Weasel would be asking out, would you?" He said it all so smoothly, that for a second, she felt like reaching over the table and slapping his face.

"Malfoy." Hermoine bit out once she knew for sure he was finished speaking, "_Shut up._"

This is exactly what she just needed. Someone like Malfoy. Someone like this insufferable prat to come and make her feel even more miserable. This would have had to be his plan all along. To taunt the Mudblood about the fact that she's the world's biggest loser. Because in the end, it always had to be this evil rat to reduce her to tears and make a fool out of herself.

But she wouldn't. Not this time.

She watched him smile through stinging eyes. "You have got to be the most horrible person I have ever met."

Draco lowered his eyes to her clenched lips, then shrugged, "Thank you." He said with a straight face.

"You—," Hermoine had been ready to bring out her wand. She already had a hundred different hexes on the top of her head. But…but she was a _Head_ _Girl_. It would be so childish for prefects to be found cursing each other. What kind of an image would it bring upon her? A Head Girl. What would Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall think? What would junior students start saying?

"You what?" Draco was staring at her with a twinkle in his eyes. It gave him satisfaction. Satisfaction to see fury engulf her. And yet…yet she couldn't do anything. Yet she just stood there, trembling with rage, and letting emotions be read so easily off her face. "Lost for words Granger?"

"You _prat_." She finally breathed, controlling hands from reaching out to strangle the Slytherin.

"Can't call me something more original than that? Come on, where is your creativity?"

With control in her fists, Hermoine stood up on shaky legs. In quick strides she managed to grab her materials, "I don't think I should waste time on calling you names."

Draco chuckled, "Really?" He felt his insides lighten as her darkened features slowly relaxed. He wasn't getting anywhere with asking her to be his date. But he enjoyed knowing the effect he could have on a usually docile girl like Hermoine.

"Really." And with a flick so quick that even Draco Malfoy never saw it, Hermoine made sure that the work of parchment Malfoy had been working on, landed softly into the pits of the fire.

She didn't wait to hear him start cursing. She didn't wait for him to return the favor.

Instead, she fled out of there, a grim smile stretched on her face.

So she had lost control against Malfoy…once again. There wasn't a crime in that. It was a natural instinct that came with being a Gryffindor. Except this time, she was even with the Slytherin.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **I've been waiting to update this, so here it is. And sorry if there are tons of grammer or spellings or whatever.

**§ђϊη§зϊ-Кσќσѓσ **


	3. A New Leaf

**Title: **When Love Goes Wrong

**Author: **Shinsei Kokoro

_Chapter 3: A New Leaf_

* * *

Draco stood by the window in his dorm room, doing his usual chore of scowling at the pathetic Gryffindor juniors attempting Quidditch. It annoyed him to no end that even till today, Slytherins hadn't won a single match against the whiny Gryffindors. Yes. It drove him insane. It was revolting. 

Slipping on his robe, Draco crossed the length of his room and pulled the door shut behind him.

But what would be even more revolting would be seeing Blaise on his make-out session with Morgana by the opposite dorm door. Although he had taken the pledge and risk to his honor to be asking Granger out, Draco didn't understand how he was ever going to accomplish that. Granger obviously thought he was a Slytherin freak and that was that.

Scowling to himself, Draco forced himself to finish off the last few lines of his Dark Arts homework. Offcourse, he had to spend the entire of this morning in the library scrounging for that damn book that had helped him. After all…he couldn't be seen handing in parched litters of paper that might have looked like an essay sheet until the night before.

But still, he could get her. She might be a rude, gangly, bookworm with anger like a hippogriff's, but he would get her.

He could get Granger with hands tied behind his back. Easy.

* * *

She was trying to be ignored. This time, it was on purpose. And it had an intention to it too. 

Hermione sighed as she walked out of her dorm heftily.

They were at it again. Again and again. Ball, ball, ball. Didn't they have anything else? Any homework? Any assessments? Absolutely anything? Exams were coming up in less than three months…the final NEWTS that too. But instead, they were more worried if their dresses would match their partner's shirts. More worried that the dress Lavender had spotted for Hermione was bought in the next five minutes. More worried that they would have to find easier spells to straighten hair.

Hermione had almost ended up pulled her own hair out. They were so _frustrating_!

She didn't want to be involved in this. In this stupid merriment which had no reason to be merry. This stupid ball was time-consuming and money-wasting. Because even if she was going to go shopping soon, where was she going to get the money from?

Her parents back in London weren't even in Europe anymore. After hearing about her grandma's sickness, they had taken a holiday leave and packed away for a few months until Hermione would be back from school.

Back from her last year at Hogwarts.

Taking the trick stairs one at a time, Hermione leaned down to watch the sweeping height from above. She would have to use whatever she had Gringgots then. And asking anything off Harry or Ron would just be too embarrassing…

She would go meet Hagrid. Talk to the man, then go back for dinner. After all, ever since she had quit his class last year, she had been seeing less and less of him. And besides, who knew if she might see him at all after the end of this year.

So with a heavy heart, Hermione pulled her coat tighter around her and trudged through a swarm of juniors and out into the snow.

* * *

Draco couldn't help but stare when she came down the stairs. 

He was coming out of the Great Hall with the rest of his friends when he saw the Head Girl walking down the stairs all by herself. She looked ready for an adventure with her sweater, coat, scarf and boots. But she looked different. A little pathetic. A little vacant.

Maybe it was because she didn't have Potty and Weasel with her, or any of her screechy friends. Or maybe it was because he was seeing her after so long out of that library. But she looked…somewhat lonely.

"I'll see you guys later." Draco merely mumbled over his shoulder, but the rest of the boys acknowledged it.

Oh yes.

He could get definitely get Hermione Granger with hands tied behind his back.

* * *

It was hard. Trudging through snow that is. After a harsh fall from last night, down Hagrid's valley, the snow came at least four inches up her ankles. 

And as usual Hagrid had been nice. He had given her a nice furry blanket, cashews to much on, and some sour and sticky drink which she thankfully did not touch. By the end of five minutes, Hagrid had managed to get her crying and explaining what exactly was happening to the Golden Trio.

"We're falling apart already!" she had wailed through a squeamish voice and runny nose, and Hagrid had arisen all panicked. Fang had dutifully curved himself next to her, flopping his unworldly large head on her lap and whined as she cried. She had never been a great dog person, as cats were her specialty, but it had been nice of him to comfort her. For a dog that is.

Pulling herself over the edge, Hermione turned around to look at the little house down the valley. The snow had covered the receding steps, the yawning grass and nothing could be seen but this whiteness. And yet, entering Hagrid's home had warmed her up all the way into the core.

He had put his giant hand onto her head, and softly said how growing boys were idiots…especially Ron. And they would finally come to their senses and see that they had been ignoring their best friend.

And that had been a nice notion.

Because although Ron had been like these for the couple of months, he couldn't get enough of himself and how girls had started to finally notice him. Harry on the other hand…well, since he was head over heels in love with Ginny…she could manage to forgive him. After all, he was a little shy when it came to talking to girls, and he probably needed all his time finally getting to ask her out.

Shivering underneath her coat, Hermione finally stood up straight on wobbly feet. Standing there would probably encourage the climate to turn her it an icicle, and that wouldn't do because tomorrow was Monday. While some of her class teachers would hurry them into finishing their last topic, teachers like Professor Snape would most probably start giving some really useful revision notes.

Pulling her scarf tighter, she turned around carefully to hitch a large pace.

And she should have noticed him. She should have seen the dark figure sitting on the ledge of rock. But she hadn't. She had been so wrapped up in her own world of annoying best friends that she had failed to notice that someone had been sitting there and watching her all this time. A Slytherin that too.

"Malfoy?" she peered, quickly wiping at her cheeks and eyes, incase she'd been crying unconsciously.

"Some one could easily kill you if they wanted to." Draco got to his feet slowly, a trademark smirk evident on his pale face. "A quick little spell from the back, and you'd be dead before you knew it."

But she hadn't moved from her spot, and Hermoine didn't know whether to glare at him or run away from him. Instead, she chose neither. Continuing walking, she merely glanced at him, "Given up chasing girls to come stalking me?"

Wrinkling his nose, he watched her huff and puff as she carefully made her way up, "Don't let the idea get to your head."

Then she stopped, and turned her watchful eyes onto him, "Then what do you want? If you're going to play a practical joke on me, play it now and get it over and done with. I don't have time to deal with your immatureness."

It was surprising how she could reduce him down into feeling like a little brat in just a couple of words, but he wasn't going to remark on that. Instead, he forced on a gracious smile, "Well…I saw you heading towards the forest. Down to that big oaf's. And you didn't have Potter or Weasel around you so I thought, hmmm, better go follow her incase she gets into trouble and appears missing tomorrow. And so I decided to wait here."

With that said, she did exactly what he knew she would. She snorted and went on slogging past him into the snow, "If you expect me to believe that, then you really don't know me. And that would be a shame, because after seven years, I think you should know by now that I can tell when someone lies. So what do you really want Malfoy?"

He had known that. What would have really surprised him was if she had believed him. And obviously it wasn't on his mind to tell her what he was exactly here for. She would just straight out reject him.

"Believe what ever you want to." He made sure she could see his impassive face, them smirked inwardly when she frowned thoughtfully.

"You're mad that I burnt your homework aren't you?" she asked skeptically.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Yes…" he said truthfully, remembering how he had nearly been about to run after her last night and hex her, "But…it's forgiven. You obviously weren't thinking straight."

Then she stopped in her tracks. Facing him, she had this weird smile on her face, "_You_…forgive _me_?" she said after a while of staring at him.

A little corner of his lip twitched.

"Come off it Malfoy. As long as I'm breathing as a muggle…I don't think someone like you would ever forgive me for even being here. And you've made that perfectly clear too many times. So just tell me, what is it that you want?"

"You don't believe me." He stated it as a fact rather than a question.

Hermione raised a brow, "You expect me to believe a Slytherin? A Malfoy?"

It made sense when she said it like that, but he wasn't about to let it drop. He had after all not waited out here in the cold for nothing.

"I don't care what you believe," he whispered just so she could here, "But don't let the fact that it wasn't Potter or Weasley here instead of me cloud your judgment."

"Draco Malfoy," Hermione scowled at him, "You've hated me for as long as I can remember. And that alone will be my judgment. So if you're telling the truth as you say you are, then I'm going. There's not much point in this argument anyway."

Whirling around, she was off and already stomping in the snow. He watched her massive curls bob up and down before finally following her. He should have realized. Dammit. She wasn't called the smartest witch for nothing after all.

* * *

There was something going on. Something, something, something. Yesterday, he had shared the library area with her, shared books with her. Shared even the same fire. And today? Today he had followed her all the way to Hagrid's and waited outside in concern for her well-being. Her _well-being_. Ha! 

Some thing was up. This wasn't possible. It was unthinkable. This was _Draco Malfoy_ she was talking about. And Malfoys didn't do that. Malfoys were unable to show care. Malfoys were supposed to be cold and unfeeling. Vile and arrogant. Spiteful and vengeful. They were supposed to be—, "Ahh!"

Unfortunately Hermione had been so intent on the words zooming in her head, that she had failed to see the little rock that she managed to trip over.

"Ugh!" Pulling her head up, she wiped her face off the snow and turned around on her back to feel a searing pain shoot up her leg. Dear Merlin, please let that not be what she thought it was.

"How wonderful." Groaning, she looked up at the owner of the amused voice and ended up staring into gray eyes, "Are you that blind to not have seen this rock?" Draco kicked at the object protruding from the snow and crouched down slightly.

"Malfoy, get lost." This wasn't happening. This certainly wasn't happening. She wasn't going to tell him. So clenching her teeth, she stood herself up carefully. But her world collapsed when she settled her other foot, and painfully braced herself to meet the snow once more.

But she didn't feel her knees in the cold. She didn't feel the snow on her face. She didn't feel like she had fallen at all. Opening the eyes she had fearfully closed, she realized in horror, that there were two arms holding her up. That she was held tight against someone's warmth. "Hmm…I always knew I was just too irresistible. Even for a bookworm like you." the voice came right next to her ear, and with a racing heart, Hermione wrenched herself away. And in doing so, stumbled and winced out in pain before finally collapsing this time in the depth of the snow.

"Repulsive, am I?" she caught him sneering and quickly looked away.

"Just don't touch me."

Rolling his eyes and clenching his jaw, Draco came down himself to his knees, "Your ankle's probably sprained."

"Offcourse you dimwit!" Hermione glared at him, pulling her leg slowly towards herself. She couldn't fix this. She didn't know how to fix sprains. She knew how to mend broken bones. She knew how to slow down the flow of blood, but not how to fix a sprain. And from Malfoy's silence, she realized neither did he. Biting her lower lip, she heaved in a deep breath as her eyes started stinging.

This couldn't be happening to her. She couldn't be stuck here with a sprained ankle with Draco Malfoy no less. There was not knowing what he would do to her. Not knowing what curses he had up his sleeves for her. Maybe this was the moment he had been waiting for. To hurt her when she was down…when she was all alone.

Cursing herself, she pulled herself up again, and let out a cry of pain.

"You idiot, don't you know never to stand on a sprained ankle." She heard Draco's voice scolding her.

"I know!" she growled once again. "But what do you suppose I do? Build myself a nest here for tonight?!" She was loosing her patience. And she was on an edge. She was stuck here with Malfoy and a sprained ankle. How could things get any worse?

"The first step to anything," Draco started in a clipped tone, "Is to calm that head." Obviously, he had had enough of being yelled at by this girl. "Or you _will_ be stuck here building a nest…although I don't realize how you'll be getting any of your twigs and leaves with that leg."

"Malfoy…" her threatening call made him roll his eyes once more before he unbutton a few of his coat buttons, to draw out his wand.

To Hermione's horror, she had nothing to look at now but at the tip of his wand. She had been right. He was going to hex her. Curse her. Probably…probably kill her.

Frantically, she reached under her coat to draw out her own wand, but the words from his mouth had already been spoken.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

She didn't get a chance to reach her wand. She flailed lightless in the air knowing full well she was defying gravity, but continued to glare at the blonde Slytherin she was hovering front of.

"Not going to torture you yet don't worry." Draco smiled wickedly, and Hermoine realized that he was already leading the way through the bridge, "It's not in my nature to torture a handicap."

And those were all the words that he spoke.

She closed her eyes praying no one was watching them right then. Praying that he would actually keep to his words. She spent so much time praying, that Hermoine never realized that they had already entered Hogwarts.

There were scarcely any students on their way to the nurse. A little junior managed to look at them with wide eyes, but one sight at Draco's scowl was enough to make his scram in the other direction.

Madame Pomfrey came scuttling about the second she saw the two of them. "What happened to her? Did she hurt something?"

"Just my ankle." Hermoine relaxed the second she felt her body fall against the soft sheets on the bed. After that, she never got another chance to say a word, because Madame Pomfrey was already taking things in charge. She hustled Draco out with a pat on his back, and he turned around to catch her eye over his shoulders.

Except she was unable to look at him.

She was unable to look at his face. Because all this time, when she had secretly thought that he would take her somewhere dark and damp to secretly kill her, he had actually managed to bring her back safely to the nurse.

And…she felt ashamed for thinking so. But could it be? Could it be that Draco Malfoy was turning over a new leaf?

* * *

Needless to say, it was a good thing that no one knew that he had actually managed to stalk Hermoine Granger and help save her from building herself a nest. That would just have destroyed his reputation. Not stalking that is…but actually _helping_ someone. 

Malfoys helped no one but themselves. That is why Draco only listened amusingly as Blaise went on about how hard he had tried finding Hermoine Granger.

"I looked throughout the _entire_ library. And that's something I'd never done."

Obviously, Draco wiped his mouth with his napkin. Looking at his grades, even a toad could tell that.

"And then I talked to a few of her giggly friends, and even they didn't know."

"Maybe she's avoiding you." Draco drawled as he leaned back.

"Very funny." Blaise snorted as he finished his own breakfast, "I reckon last time, she just thought I was taking the mickey out of her. But I've got a plan this time."

"And what is this plan of yours?" Draco raised his brows, attempting to not let him on that he was actually interested.

But Blaise was a true Slytherin. He just smirked and glanced at the Gryffindor table where Hermoine Granger was back to normal on her feet…not that Blaise knew anything about it, "You'll just have to watch."

* * *

She had dutifully been trying to avoid him. Dutifully meaning failingly. During classes -as they shared most of them-, after classes, and by the time Potions came, Hermione was exhausted. She either found him right behind her. Next to her. And once, after coming from Defence against Dark Arts she even walked straight _into_ him. Hermione never realized it took so much energy to avoid someone. But hanging out with loudmouths like Harry and Ron, there wasn't much to expect. 

"I still can't believe you went to Hagrid's without us." Ron hissed from behind his hand. He was still feeling a little lousy about that fact and had taken a lot to complaining. Sometimes she didn't realize just how much she had to put up with.

"What was I supposed if I couldn't find either of you?" Hermione scowled at him, "Hang out by myself?"

"You seem to be good at doing that." She heard Ron murmur, and had been about to give him a piece of her mind before Harry jumped in from between them.

"Your leg feeling better though, 'mione?"

"She's not dying Potter." Professor Snape's snap abruptly resounded through the class and a few Slytherin girls in the back giggled. "So keep your talking outside class, unless you want to leave right now."

Harry didn't dither from the Professor's gaze, and just merely nodded, "Sorry."

Muttering something under his breath, Snape whirled back around to continue scribbling on the board. For some reason, he always knew the perfect way to pick on the Gryffindors…mainly the Golden Trio.

Sighing, Hermione turned to 'the boy who lived' and gave him a miserable smile, "I'm fine." She mouthed.

That had been her excuse for not making it to dinner last night. She had tripped on the way back and had managed to make it Madame Pomfrey. Any traces about Malfoy had been left out, and Hermoine felt terrible lying about it. Especially to Harry. He had been so concerned this morning when she had come to breakfast limping a little.

The pain might have been gone, but she hadn't been able to stop thinking about yesterday.

And unconsciously she found herself watching Draco Malfoy by the window from the corner of her eyes. His gleaming hair stood out from the rest of the Slytherin boys, and her heart managed to race a little just like yesterday. Maybe it was the hair?

…no.

So he had helped her. Maybe he was even bringing out a bit of his invisible good side, but so what?

Seven years of torture could not be repaid by just one measly help.

Seven years of hearing him insult her. Hearing him mock her. Hearing other girls giggle at her. It made her self-conscious. It made her realized that not only were they laughing at her blood but at her appearance, her nature, her ability as a witch. And even though today, she knew she had surpassed each and every single person who had laughed behind her back, she still couldn't let go.

She had started Hogwarts to learn more of this beautiful world. Her parents had sent her away after she had pleaded and pleaded. She had come here to learn new things. To learn how to control powers. To learn history and ancient mythology. To learn spells and curses. But in the end, she had ended up wanting to prove that even she _was_ a Mudblood, she could outsmart any of them any day.

And she had proved that to Draco Malfoy several times.

Yet his strange behaviour lately was something she couldn't decipher. He had helped her…actually _helped_ her. She had spent most of the time yesterday in bed blushing. Each time she closed her eyes, she remembered how warm it had been when he had held her up against him. She felt a tingle in her stomach, and immediately drew her stare away when those same haunting gray eyes turned her way.

She didn't see him grin.

* * *

Hermione received the surprise of all surprises when she walked into the dorm room that evening. Not only had she just encountered Richard Crench from Hufflepuff, but he had…albeit a bit shyly…asked her out to the ball. 

She had stood there so shocked, that Richard had managed to give a good-natured laugh and said he would give her time to think about it if she wanted to. Nodding mutely, she made it to her dorm with a quick run and a heart racing so fast in her chest, she thought it might just blow up any time. To think that someone had asked her out…not someone from her friends circle and not someone like Blaise Zabini who obviously had been playing a practical joke on her.

Entering her dorm room, she realized there were three letters that had been slid beneath her door. Picking them up curiously, she ripped open one of them. It was strange…she never got letters. Not directly posted ones at least.

Skimming through them the opened letter in her eyes, she felt her eyes widen as each word rang in her mind. It was signed _Ian Zenith_. A Ravenclaw prefect she knew. A letter politely inquiring if he could accompany her to the ball.

Sitting herself down by the edge of her bed, she went to open the other two letters with trembling hands. _Lucas DeSeaille. _And _William Theodore_. Both Hufflepuffs.

Letting a shriek escape her lips she threw herself into her bed with the letters.

In less than five minutes, she had been asked by four boys! Decent boys who got good grades. Decent good-looking boys. And in the case of Richard…_very_ good-looking.

Smiling against her covers, Hermione set all three letters under her pillow. And here she was thinking no boys saw her. When they did…when after all, they were just taking their time and planning on not being too forward.

And so, just for the occasion, she quickly donned on a new pair of studs that glittered underneath the hair she brushed thoroughly. Taking one last look in her mirror, Hermione cheerfully left her dorm to meet the others in the Great Hall for dinner. Besides, she couldn't wait to tell Ginny. Knowing the Patil twins and Lavender, they would be _so_ jealous of her!

* * *

She had a little bounce on her feet when he watched her walk in. Unlike yesterday, her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were rosy with delight. Draco stared at the Head Girl as she squeezed herself in between Weasley and Potter on their table. Obviously, the last thing she would ever do was hold grudges against her mates, but this was absurd. He ached to know the reason behind that great big smile that she wore. 

"Draco." Pansy's voice leeched by his side, and when he looked down at her, he saw a whine on her face, "You've been brooding about something since yesterday. What is it?"

Pulling his arm out of her hold, he took down the rest of the pumpkin juice from his goblet, "Nothing."

"Draco." She insistently complained.

But he ignored her. It was just too hard to tell in front of everyone that he wouldn't be taking her to the ball. It wasn't as if he had even asked her…but it was just like at home. She would be his date to every party he had to go as a Malfoy. Usually when his father used to be at the manor, it had been a chore. But nowadays, it was only his mother who went. He occasionally went with her in the last summer holidays just to provide company if the other women left her out with their snide talks of Lucius Malfoy at Azkaban.

Turning around to glance at the table, Draco noticed Blaise missing on the dinner table. Come to thinking of it…a couple of other Slytherins were missing too…

Shrugging, he went back to his dinner, knowing full well that they would either be drunk in their dorms or making out with their girls.

Besides, he had other things to think about. Like how surprised Hermione Granger would be when she would find out that she'd be patrolling the school with him tonight.

* * *

Hermione emerged from the common room clad in full uniform and her robes. She clutched her lamp tightly and made sure her wand was somewhere in her pocket. 

She wouldn't usually mind patrolling, but something about how Snape had ended class today made her realize he would be giving some sort of a test tomorrow. Frowning, she realized she would just have to work on it after coming back.

Walking to the doors of the Great Hall, she wandered around a little in wait for Terry Boot. He usually waited around for her a little, but since they hadn't patrolled together for many nights, Hermione realized he might have forgotten the routine they had and already started without her.

Pulling her robes close, Hermione held the lamp up high and decided to start off from towards the Astronomy tower. Usually, that was where she ended up finding annoying juniors trying to break school rules by practicing flying their broom sticks in the middle of the night.

But everything seemed eerie tonight. Not one student seemed to be walking the corridors…no one faking sleep walking. She couldn't even find Terry.

Sighing, Hermione started up the second floor and finalized that this was the last floor she would do before going to back to her dorm room.

She had been concentrating so much on any little noise, that the scuffling behind her was an immediate alert.

"Who's there?" she held her lamp up higher in the darkness, seeking for any cheeky faces. But she got none.

Then there were more scuffling. Like there was someone behind her. "Look, just get to bed alright?" Hermione whirled around, annoyed. "I don't want to be reporting you at this hour of the night."

"Reporting which one of us exactly." Came the voice from behind her again.

Pushing her blazing lamp around, Hermione took back a little step as four boys came into view. They seemed Slytherin…with two of them 7th year in fact.

Sighing tightly, she scowled at them, "You guys should already know not to be wandering around. Get to bed, will you?" Hermione waited for them to scowl back and turn around. But they never did.

One of them smirked at her, and Hermione realized he had taken a few steps towards her, "Actually, we were here looking for someone."

"Who?" her voice came as a squeak and she quickly berated herself. Head Girls never squeaked.

"You." came another voice…from right behind her.

In those few seconds, Hermione realized she had been trapped.

"Look, I'm giving you guys—,"

"Don't turn around will you? And no screaming if you don't mind." She never felt the threat, not until she felt something prodding at her back. It was a wand. And then when the nerves in her started rising, she felt a body close behind her. Repulsed, a million curses ran through her mind…but she was trapped. Five against one. If she attacked the four guys in front of her, she was open to attack from the one behind. And if she attacked the guy behind, she would leave her back to four other wands.

Her mind was screaming. Frustrated, she mentally screamed at herself. She should have been more careful. She have been more attentive. Suddenly starting to feel desperate, Hermione felt herself panicking. She couldn't help it. Smartest witch or not. She was a girl and she was trapped with five large boys. And there was not one thing she could do. Not at that moment. There was no one to help her. Terry was probably on the other side of the school. And even if she screamed, help would be too late.

But then there were footsteps, and she quickly noticed the alarm that spread over each of the four faces. The boy from behind had grabbed a fistful of her robe in such a rush that the lamp fell from her grasp and he pulled her further into the darkness.

"Help!" she shrieked, and immediately a hand flew across her mouth, clamping it shut.

Then there was a strange commotion as she tried to wriggle free.

"Hey! What the hell are you guys doing?" Hermione barely recognized that voice. But relief flooded her nonetheless. Someone had come. Someone would save her.

And in the mere light, Hermione caught sight of Blaise Zabini's face. His eyes were trained on her, but not before he pulled out his wand suddenly, "Let her go." She heard his voice demanding.

The grasp pulled her further, but his second demand was even louder, "Let her go!" his wand was high and trained, and the other four boys seemed to have vanished.

Hermione wriggled harder and elbowed the one holding her hard in his ribs.

"Ow!" the emitted howl gave her enough chance to break free and pull out of his grasp.

"Expelliarmus!" she screamed into the dark. There was a clatter of a wand, and then sudden footsteps behind her.

"Are you okay?" she could hear Blaise Zabini's concerned voice, before there were further rapid footsteps.

"Lumos!" the growl came, and suddenly the hallway was illuminated through the tip of a dark wand.

Hermione clutched hers tighter and pushed herself against the wall, "What the hell do you guys want from me?!" Slytherins. They were all Slytherins. She was surrounded by them. And she had nothing but her wand. Harry and Ron weren't here and she was all by herself against an illicit group of Slytherins.

This wasn't happening. How was she to protect herself?? How was she to—

"Granger?" With even her eyes traveling around rapidly, Hermione found herself reacting to that voice. She knew him…

After all, it was Draco Malfoy holding his alighted wand.

Whimpering, she shuffled back further. Him? Was this his plan? His plan to ruin her?

But his eyes flickered. They narrowed and he glared thunderously at the other Slytherins, "What the fuck is going on here?" For a moment, no one spoke. No one dared breathed, so he screamed, "I asked, what the _fuck_ is going on here?!"

"Draco." Blaise coughed first, "I was just—,"

"Just what?" he advanced one step at a time, and by the time he reached Hermione, she already had herself covered with her wand. He watched her carefully, then he spat, "Was _this_ your brilliant plan?"

Blaise's eyes drew wide, and Hermione found herself listening intently. What plan? What was he talking about?!

"Look." He glanced around nervously and the remaining seemed to be backing away, "It's not what it looks like—,"

When Hermione turned herself back to Draco, she realized she had never seen anyone else ever with that frigid cold face. Even in his light, she could see his tight jaw and the hard fury in his eyes.

"Granger." She jumped up slightly as he spoke her name. But he never once looked at her. "Take the lamp and go back to your dorm."

Her feet were frozen to the ground and she could do nothing but stare at him.

"I said!" he threw her a glare, "Take the lamp and leave! _Now!_"

She didn't need to be told twice. Scrambling to her feet, she gripped the lamp off the floor and ran from the corridor he had appeared from. Whatever was going on, she had to get away from it. Had to get away from it all. It was too much. Too overwhelming.

She ran until she reached the corridor corner, then collapsed against another wall. Pushing her lamp a little further away, she peered around the corridor at the light that remained.

That had been strange. So strange that Hermione within her beating and flaring chest, couldn't just run away and not see what had happened. Malfoy had yelled at them. And she could still remember the shock she had seen on his face. If not him…then who was behind it?

* * *

"Look—," Blaise started for the second time, and he gulped as the boy he faced grew closer. 

"You rat…" Draco hissed until he pointed the lit wand so close, Blaise took a step back, "What the hell gave you that idea? To take advantage of her?" His blood was roaring, and Draco found himself at the end of his control.

"No!" Blaise insisted, "It wasn't like that! These guys were just gonna push her around a little, before I—,"

"Before you would come out to make a hero of yourself?" Draco spat.

"No…" Blaise took another step back. He looked positively miserable. But he knew, one more word to prove Draco Malfoy would be a risk to his health.

"It was his idea in the first place!" one of the Slytherin boys pointed as he stood pale to his neck.

But Draco found himself still attempting to keep himself from lashing out the guy he once called his friend. The memory was pasted in his mind. Where Granger was crouched in the corner, her face so full of fear and horror.

"She's a Head Girl…" he found himself saying, "Do you know the kind of shit you've put the name of Slytherin into? Attacking the Head Girl?!" the grip on his wand was quivering, and Draco found himself greatly in control from hexing each and every Slytherin in that corridor.

"But we didn't do anything." Blaise continued, the alarm rising in his face. "We didn't plan on saying a single spell. It was just—,"

"I don't care what you did or didn't plan on doing!" Draco suddenly found himself grabbing the front of his friend's robes, "If I see you as much as talking to her again, this entire school will know everything about tonight. Am I clear?"

"Y-yes." Blaise crumbled as Draco shook him slightly, then he was pushed into the darkness.

"Get out of my face."

That was the only warning they needed. Because within that same second, each and every single one of them had fled down the corridor. Draco waited until he couldn't hear their footsteps anymore, then turned around, his robes rapidly bellowing after him.

Still holding out his wand, he reached the corner before calling out, "I thought I had told you to go back to your dorm."

From her position on the floor against the wall, Hermione stared up at him through teary eyes. He could see her wand was clutched tight, but what he could see clearer were the tears rolling down her face. Her lamp laid discarded a few steps away, and he could do nothing but feel a little wary.

Hermione found it none too easy to stop her tears. They just kept falling and falling.

Her last year of school was turning out to be such a disaster. Not only had her friends slowly started to abandon her, but today she had nearly been killed at the hands of Slytherins. And it was just too much. Nothing seemed to be going right. Nothing.

She had predicted her last year to be the best. Filled with happy memories of her, Harry, Ron and the rest of the great friends she had made. She had ever started looking forward to the ball with Richard. Tomorrow, she had planned on nearing him and telling that she accepted his offer.

And then everything had come down to this. She could hardly make out what had gone on back there, but one thing she knew was that she would never bring herself to talk to a Slytherin ever again. In that one little moment, she actually come to think that that would be the end of her.

"Here." The voice from above shook her to the bones, and she looked up to stare face first into a white cloth being extended down to her. Carefully, she noticed the hand holding it, and next she stared at its owner. Draco had an unoccupied expression on his face, but she could just nearly make out the creases by the edge of his light eyes.

"Well, do you want it or not?" the handkerchief shook in front of her face, and without thinking she grabbed it. Staring at it hard for a second, she let herself enjoy the silky feeling of it in her fingers. Folding it slightly, Hermione wiped her face and carefully her running nose.

Yet again, it was Draco Malfoy in front of her. And unlike her own best friends, he seemed to be everywhere ready to help her.

However, this time she wouldn't say a word to him. Because she had heard him threatening his own friends. And she didn't have the ability to be ungrateful.

"Come on, get up." She saw him reaching for the lamp forgotten by her feet and held it to her also.

Taking it from his hands, Hermione pushed herself up and found herself looking up at him again. She never really realized until then how taller he was than her. A few years back, they might have been the same height. But since the past year or so, he had shot up like the rest of the boys. And today in between the corridors, he stood a head taller than her.

"Thank you." She murmured.

But he was already walking. From his silence, Hermione figured he mustn't have heard her. Quickly following after him, she recognized after a few minutes that he was guiding her to the Gryffindor common room.

"I was supposed to be patrolling with you tonight." She heard him say, and it quickly dawned upon her. It was no wonder Terry had been absent…and that was why Malfoy had been able to help her. Because he had been patrolling…

When they finally reached the Gryffindor door, the portraits scowled at Draco to put his bright light out, and so scowling back, he did so grudgingly.

But the murmurs didn't stop. Something about a Slytherin in Gryffindor territory. Something about a Slytherin talking to the Head Girl in the late of the night.

Wanting to kill the silence between them, she held up the handkerchief in her fist, managing to make some sort of eye-contact with him, "I'll give you this back tomorrow."

"With your snot in it? No thanks." His brows were raised, and she couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"Washed, I meant."

But he just shrugged, "You can keep it. It's only cloth."

And then when it suddenly turned awkward to just stand there, he nodded, turning around to leave. What happened next was on an impulse. She just couldn't let him leave like that. Not when…not when he had been so nice to her.

So she called out of his name and ran to tug at his sleeve at the same time. "Wait." She found herself staring into his eyes once again. They seemed to hypnotize her. But one glance from him at his arm, made her quickly drop her hold, "I…um…t-thank you." She paused to look down at her feet, "For what you did."

There was silence from his part, and when she looked up ready to take his scorn, she was surprised when he only pocketed his wand. There wasn't a whiff of a sneer on his face. "I heard you the first time." That was all he said before he gave the Fat Lady one last frown and disappeared into the darkness.

Hermione stayed rooted to her spot until she couldn't make out his figure anymore, then gave the password to let herself into her safe haven. For a while she sat by the dying embers of the fire, staring into it, until she felt herself warm to her toes.

If she didn't know better, Draco Malfoy had already turned over that new leaf.

* * *

**§ђϊη§зϊ-Кσќσѓσ**

**A/N: **That went better than I expected...so I hope you guys enjoyed this chappy! Buh bye!


	4. Another Dream

**Title: **When Love Goes Wrong

**Author: **Shinsei Kokoro

_Chapter 4: Another Dream_

* * *

There was undoubtedly this strange feeling in his stomach. It was uneasy, fluttery and cold. And he was unable to do anything about it. Pressing his quill against his parchment, Draco continued to scribble down notes from Snape's blackboard. 

_…one vial of breazel saliva, one crushed dragon horn. After stirring the cauldron at a steady pace ten times anti-clockwise…_

Yes…it was true. And very unfortunate indeed.

However, it was the 8th that day, and he only had three more days remaining. Draco hadn't been able to concentrate on one little thing ever since what happened two nights ago with Hermione Granger. It had been absolutely ridiculous because he couldn't even near her with her stupid friends around her.

He obviously hadn't gotten any closer to make her his ball date yet, and nor had he even said a word to her ever since dropping her to the Gryffindor common room that night. All he knew was that, it was getting tedious. Like some sort of an obsession…and Malfoy's never got obsessed over girls…much less over a Mudblood.

But that was all there was to it. Because in every corner of his mind was Hermione Granger. If he wasn't watching her through the corner of his eyes, he would be wondering what the Golden Trio would sometimes be suddenly growling about. Well actually, the heated talking between them had in fact started yesterday during Transfiguration.

For the first time in his life, he had watched Ron Weasley perform a spell correctly before anyone else. It was a pathetic spell, which Draco hadn't even taken the heart in attempting. Obviously, the first thing the Weasel King did was crow haughtily in front of the Mudblood, appearing greatly pleased that he had outsmarted her. She looked merely surprised, but continued to write in her parchment.

Draco could never realize what really unnerved him about it. Maybe it was because for the first time the school's bookworm wasn't at all upbeat about performing a spell two seconds after being taught about it. Or maybe it was that irking feeling he got remembering how small she had looked when she had accepted his handkerchief.

"Very entertaining Weasley." Draco sneered when Professor McGonagall had gone to deal with Longbottom and the green scales he had managed to grow on himself, "Maybe now you can provide your family with something other that rags and hand me downs." It felt almost nice to let that out. It had been a while since he had insulted someone.

"Shut up Malfoy." Scar-head as usual was the first to burst. But Draco decided the Weasel King hadn't yet turned into a ripe tomato.

"But then again, I don't think even magic can clothe the number of rats your mother has borne."

Draco had yet to decide which of the two would pounce on him first. Except no sooner had Ron whipped his wand out with the face of a sizzling fire engine, Hermione had grabbed his arm back.

"Ron, no! Don't do it." she hissed under her breath, but the red head struggled against her. Then she grabbed Harry's robes before the boy could fly off the handle, "Harry, ignore him. It's not worth it."

"Never!" Ron growled. The strain could be seen on Hermione's face the moment he drew his arm back forcefully. "Ignoring him is the last—,"

"Weasley!" Professor McGonagall's shrill voice broke apart the tenseness that had been raging, "What on Merlin are you pointing your wand at Malfoy for!"

Draco waited for the Golden Trio to burst into complaints, but Hermione was the first one to cry out, "Just a little misunderstanding Professor."

Necks were nearly twisted as three faces snapped in her direction.

"Mis-mis—," Ron was unable to get the words out of his dropped jaw.

"_What?_" Harry slapped his desk incredulously.

"Miss Granger, I think this is definitely something that is _not_ a misunderstanding." McGonagall growled as tightly as her bun. "You are seventh years! Three of you prefects even! You have NEWTs coming up in less than three months, and if _this_ is the way you will learn in my class, I'm afraid there won't anyone who'll be willing to give you jobs!"

"Professor—," Hermione interrupted meekly. And it seemed to have been a great mistake.

"And you Miss Granger. There is a reason you're a Head Girl. Your job is also to stop these nonsense quarrels!" McGonagall had gone a pink shade by now, but she seemed unstoppable, "I can't believe I've waste my time yelling at young adults like you four. It's unbelievable. Now, Miss Granger, please accompany Mr Longbottom to the hospital wing before he sprouts another wing."

It was to Neville's joy that the attention was back on him, and without another word Hermione nodded before leading the boy out of the room.

McGonagall then seemed to take in a breath and turn her stern face back onto the three boys, "Now…I won't be taking points for this because it's towards the end of the year. But another word from either of you or any wand pointing—," she glanced pointedly at Ron, "—your punishment will be a few good days of detention."

A few years back, Draco decided, he used to cringe at the idea of detention. But today, he only smirked as Professor McGonagall huffed around and went to attend another student with help. The idea of detention was nothing compared to what had just happened.

Granger had actually evaded a fight with him…by going against her two mates. And lying.

Looking hard at his Potions parchment, Draco leaned back in his seat and glanced over his shoulders. He was right. Hermione looked away just as quickly. She didn't have that dreamy look on her face like the other girls did, but she wasn't glaring and burning holes in his head either.

If he didn't know any better, he was almost getting to her. Just another little step…and she would be all his.

That would show Blaise to never mess with a Malfoy.

* * *

Something was happening to her. That was definitely the answer to her problems. Maybe she had picked some sort of illness. Maybe someone had put a spell on her. Hermione didn't know what, but she knew it was insane to be thinking so much of a boy she had hated severely for more than six years. 

Ever since she had butted in at Transfiguration, Ron hadn't stopped bringing that indifferent look every time she came around.

"I still can't believe you helped Malfoy get out of it yesterday. Just when he could have gotten it from McGonagall."

"Grow up Ronald." Hermione rolled her eyes as she avoided looking up from her Charms homework.

"I don't know what's gotten into you." Ron looked positively miffed, but Harry beside him didn't say a word.

"Nothing's gotten into me." Hermione clenched her jaw and pretended very hard to ignore the blabbering.

"If you can't remember, then let me remind you of an enemy we've had from Day one here. Most importantly, _your _enemy. A _Slytherin_." Ron sat back in his chair the moment Hermione looked up, "And then you go and do the most stupidest thing ever. Backing up Malfoy." Scowling deeply, he turned it into a sneer, "One would think you might even fancy him by the—,"

"Shut up!"

One word out of her mouth had not only quietened the entire common room, but papers had fallen over, and Hermione was standing tall over both the boys, fists clenched and her eyes blazing with anger.

"That's—," she spat uncontrollably at Ron, "That's the last of it." She was glaring so hard, that soon her smarting eyes shut tight before opening, making everything blurry, "All…all you can _ever_ do is think about yourself. And that makes you so immature. _Both_ of you!"

She didn't know what made her say that. For one it didn't make sense. Because although there was so much she wanted her two best friends to know, Hermione decided that maybe it was better that they remain distanced…for a while at least. She didn't have the guts. She didn't have the nerve to tell Ron how hurt she felt when he hadn't looked at her even once as a ball date option. Not after all the drama he had pulled at the Yule Ball. She had had so much hope that this time, he would come to his senses, pluck some courage and ask her for something else other than her homework. She didn't have the nerve to tell either him or Harry how isolated she had started to feel these days. While they were both deeply engrossed in their own love lives, they had left her back alone once again like chopped liver.

And above all, she definitely didn't have the nerve to tell them how these days Draco Malfoy had been even more of a better conversationalist that both of them put together. He had actually _helped_ her out that night. Given her his handkerchief and walked her to the Gryffindor common room. If he could change his behaviour pattern towards a girl he had called Mudblood ever since, why couldn't she show him a little gratitude for what he had done for her?

So with lips tightly pursed together, Hermione dragged her things into her book bag before storming out through the portrait hole and letting the tears fall only when she knew no one was in the corridor. She felt horrible. She felt so alone.

And for the first time after so many years, Hermione Granger wished more than anything, that right then she was cuddled up at home with Crookshanks, falling asleep to the light voices of her parents in the living room.

* * *

Blaise was trying particularly hard to not even have his face seen. Which was quite as well, because Draco couldn't decide if he wanted to either hex him or kill him. Yes, the Zabini family had been friends with the Malfoys for a long time. His father in fact used to call in Mr. Zabini for a fire whiskey sometimes. Blaise had been one of those many cunning Slytherins that Draco had thought had brains. But he couldn't forget it. No matter how many times he tried. Her soft voice and the tug on his sleeves, before a thank you followed. He never thought he'd see a day when a Gryffindor patriot would express gratitude to a Slytherin like him. 

But then again, he never thought he would have ever stood up for the bucktooth bookworm either.

Pushing back the hair from his forehead, Draco peered through the thundering rain at the goalposts, where Crabbe and Goyle remained like a couple of oversized sandbags. Sometimes he wished they could show just a bit more zest to what was happening around them. They were probably the worst Beaters Slytherin ever had in quite some years.

But the rest of the team was better. From where he hovered over the top, they looked sluggish right then. Draco realized he might have been pushing them a little too hard into their practices, but there was no way he was going to captain a loosing Slytherin team. He was going to make them win even if they had to practice every evening of the week.

Leaning down his broom, he pulled out a whistle and blew into it. A wave of an arm at him and they scattered.

Draco remained in the air until the last of the two players packed up the balls and could be seen running back into the shelter of the corridors.

Flying down lower until he could feel the rain weighing him down, Draco picked up speed towards the North Tower. The open window there always made it a closer route back to the Slytherin common room. But just as he felt his feet touch the tip of the grass near the courtyard, he saw a sudden moment by the pillars of the front corridor.

Frowning, he flew in a little closer, knowing it would probably be Filch doing his routine by harassing the first years. But there was no one.

* * *

It was almost past seven, and the sky outside was darkening. Hermione could see a few brooms in the sky as she took the open corridors. She was aching to get to the library before anybody saw her in this horrible state. Rubbing her face furiously, she thought of the embarrassing situation she had gotten in the moment she had entered the prefect's bathroom with tears on her cheeks. Pansy Parkinson was one of the girls by the sink, brushing her hair consistently. One look at the Slytherin girls and she had barged back out, praying from the bottom of her heart that none of them had seen her crying. 

The wind outside stung her legs, and she pulled her robes around tighter. The courtyard looked strangely magical although much of the snow was washed away. The force hitting the cement was immense. How anybody could even think of playing Quidditch in this weather was maddening.

However, just before she could turn the corner of the corridor, a figure closer to the ground caught her eye. His pale hair somewhat molded in with the colour of the sky, and Hermione found it unavoidable to take her eyes off him as his broom sped down to the ground. Alarmed, she ran to the pillars. Her insides relaxed ever so much when he pulled it up in the last second and managed to remain just above the grass.

Draco Malfoy didn't look like he minded too much being drenched. Swallowing, Hermione hurried forward, a sudden energy seeping up her legs, but her attention poking out of the corner of her eyes. She walked where her legs carried her, finding it impossible to take her eyes off him. When he would get a little further, she would rush ahead a little faster.

He looked so agile on his broom. His robes fluttering behind him, and one of his hand insistently coming up to push back his hair. And then suddenly his head turning.

Grabbing the nearest pillar, Hermione threw her back into it. Breathing heavily, she clamped her mouth and willed herself to stop breathing so loudly. It would be a disaster if he saw her. It would be a disaster because Hermione herself didn't know what she was doing hiding behind a pillar right then. But she had to hide and that that's all she knew. She had to hide no matter—

"Hiding from someone?"

Hermione gave a startled yelp before she could help it. Whirling around in spite of herself, she took several steps back watching Draco Malfoy's familiar figure lean against the other side of the pillar. With his broom in his hands, and hair plastered against his head, he didn't look very sour at standing in a downpour.

"W-what?" Hermione stammered uncontrollably, feeling the heat already starting to choke her. Just the sight of him so close was enough to make her stomach have a chase of butterflies.

A look of amusement passed over his features, but Hermione pushed it aside knowing it was only a trick of her eyes. She would have to provide him with an explanation. She had been caught red-handed and she would soon have to step down on her pride. She would have to—

"I asked," he leaned in through the two pillars, with his arms rested casually, "Are you hiding from someone?" He wasn't sneering. Or scowling. Or spitting. Instead, there was more of a playful smirk on his face, and it made her bare arms underneath her robes swim with goosebumps.

"H-hiding?" Hermione provided him with the most shocked expression she could muster, "Of course not! W-why-why on Earth would I be hiding? I mean, I-I was just going somewhere, a-and—to the library! I was going to the library." It was the truth, and it dawned on her as her book bag weighed down on her left shoulder. This would fool him. Definitely. She always went to the library. Everyone knew that. Because there was no reason she was here. There was no reason to be hiding behind a pole from Malfoy.

Absolutely not.

"Oh yes…" he looked up with his eyes crinkled at the edges, "The library…"

"Yes." Hermione pushed herself to speak louder, suddenly realizing that the rain had slanted to pour into the corridor floor. She quickly moved away as some of it sprayed the side of her face.

"Not finished with homework yet?" Draco asked not moving from his spot.

Hermione shuffled at her feet, "No," she said again, but dared not look away, "Something like that." He sounded suspicious, but she wasn't giving him any reason to be. Why should he be suspicious anyways? The corridors were free for anyone to walk through. It wasn't past curfew yet. And besides! She was a Head Girl. She could walk anywhere as she pleased. In the air. On the soil. And definitely on any floor.

So she had the right to not feel embarrassed right? To not feel so breathless in this awkward situation. To not feel like she had been spying on him. Because never _ever_ would any Hermione Granger ever _stalk_ a Malfoy.

"Enlighten me with something Granger." His voice was so soft she almost didn't hear him over the noise of the rain. Hermione was much too occupied to not look at how his clothes were plastered against his body, nor at how his pale skin glowed. And definitely not at how beads of water from his hair rolled down his face and jaws. No. No. She was not looking at that.

"What?" she choked out.

"The reason to why you've been defending my name since yesterday."

The question seemed so bluntly asked that Hermione felt running away as her insides began to race, "Th-there isn't any reason. I was just avoiding trouble."

Her words made Draco's lips lift up a little, but he only nodded, "Avoiding trouble, okay. But for a Slytherin?" His eyes bored into hers and Hermione found herself unable to move.

"I didn't find you contemplating to help me or not the other night. Being a Gryffindor that is. And also being part of the Golden Trio as you call us. You went against your own rules and friends for me." She wasn't smiling, Draco noticed. Her brows were pulled in together lightly, and she seemed very particular about her choice of words.

"Please. Don't disgust me." Draco paused with an unreadable expression, "They were never my friends." Then something broke the stiffness in his voice, "Besides, I was doing my prefect's duty."

"And so was I." Hermione replied immediately. "By avoiding trouble for all of us."

"You were hardly involved."

"I become involved in whatever my friends get involved in."

"Really?" Draco raised his brows in a scoff.

"Yes." Hermione bit back defiantly. What else was he expecting her to say? That she was taking every opportunity provided to repay her dept? That she hadn't stopped thinking about him even for a second? That she was beginning to enjoy the sight of him?

No. Never. She would never run back on her role as a Gryffindor.

Hermione realized she definitely wasn't thinking straight. She was still mad after her outburst with Ron. And she was still shocked at Malfoy's new change in behavior.

She wasn't possibly—there was no way she could be…no. He might have showed her a little bit of his 'gentleman' side. But this was Malfoy. The Slytherin prince. The guy who had tormented her and called her names for seven years. She couldn't just rub away all that hate and repulsion towards him. It was impossible. But he had helped her. If not by pity, he had still helped her. Handed her his _handkerchief_ when she had broken down in front of him. And that handkerchief was still in her drawer as evidence.

"What are you thinking about?"

His words shook her and brought her mind back to the moment.

"Not you." She blurted the first thing from her mouth. Registering what she had just said into her mind, her eyes widened, "I mean n-nothing." Hermione stuttered helplessly, and watched the smile on his face widen. "Nothing at all. Definitely nothing."

He was enjoying this. And she knew it. He was enjoying making her flush. Making her uncomfortable. And it angered her to no end.

"Although I find you very annoying Granger." Draco said slowly with a straight face, which turned cocky as he heaved himself up on the ledge, "I take immense pleasure in knowing I'm all you think about."

"Oh shut up." Hermione snapped with a scowl as her face burnt with embarrassment. "If your head gets any bigger, it might just fall off your neck," Hitching the strap of her book bag higher on her shoulder, she glared at the boy leaning ever so casually across the pillar. "Besides, I think we've chatted for way too long anyway. So goodnight." She drew the words out with a red face, before beginning to march down the corridor with resounding stomps.

"Going to the library?" Hermione heard his voice trailing after her.

She barked at him without turning around, "Yes! Have you got a problem with that?" she asked savagely.

"Not particularly." His voice sent her mind blank again, "But you might like to know that you're going in the opposite direction."

* * *

Draco smirked at her retreating form. Her shoulders had stiffened and she didn't say a word. As she passed by him, he caught a look at her tightened jaw and flushed face. But she never said a word. 

"See you at nine Granger." He said nonchalantly, and he could make out the slight pause she made, "I'd suggest you keep your wand out."

Still she never said a word, and continued walking, pretending she hadn't heard.

Draco rolled his eyes before turning his attention to the pitter-patter of the rain. He smirked steadfastly as he picked up his broom and hopped into the corridor.

Tonight…he would ask her out. And by tomorrow morning, the entire school would know how resisting Draco Malfoy was just next to impossible, even for the girl who hated him the most.

* * *

Hermione couldn't concentrate. Dipping her quill into ink, she paused it over her parchment for the umpteenth time. Yes. Now this was crossing the border. She was going clinically insane, and she might just about need a brain transplant…or better yet… 

Hermione glanced at her wand sitting by a pile of library books. How accurate would she be if she tried to Obliviate herself?

"Stupid," she growled at herself, then glared back at her parchment, "Stupid. _Stupid_."

What was _wrong_ with her?

Yes, she was embarrassed beyond her blood pressure point. Yes. She felt like hiding underneath a rock and never showing her face again. And yes, it felt like her heart couldn't race any faster.

Every miniscule thought in her head connected to the Slytherin. Every time she looked up, she expected to see a blonde head standing in front of her desk, with hands in his pockets and doing that weird thing with his mouth…smirking and sneering at the same time.

'_Ugh!_' Hermione tossed her quill away. She was going mad! Absolutely bonkers! She was loosing her head and that definitely did not set well with her. Hermione Granger was supposed to be smart, collected and intellectual. Not a raving lunatic!

_Why?_ Why on earth was she thinking about him so much? Why couldn't she forget the sight of him dripping wet and smelling like the rain? Or when he had bent down to hand her his white handkerchief with that unguarded and remorse expression?

A chill went up her back, and she stood up abruptly, pushing her chair back violently.

It was five past nine and she could stall it no longer.

Packing her things into her book bag, Hermione continued her stomping towards the Gryffindor common room, ignoring the frown Madam Pince sent her way. Upon entering through the portrait, she didn't dare to even glance at the two boys playing Wizard's Chess by the fire. Dumping her book bag on her bed and turning her back on Parvati's and Lavender's furrowed brows, Hermione only brought out her wand after she stepped back out of the portrait.

'_There's no reason you should be worried_,' Hermione reasoned with herself, then glared grimly as she started on her familiar route. She would just have to avoid Malfoy at any cost while patrolling tonight.

* * *

Draco was getting rather frustrated. It was twenty past nine, and although he had spotted a snogging couple and a whiny junior, the Head Girl hadn't been spotted as of yet. He had spent a better half of the last two hours coming up with the perfect way to ask the Mudblood out, and as he patrolled the same corridor twice, he growled under his breath. 

Maybe she was avoiding him? At the fact that he had caught her in the act of stalking?

Draco chuckled to himself lightly. He had never thought the day would come where Hermione Granger would be the girl stalking _him_. It was amusing in on itself. She had obviously been surprised at being caught red-handed, and there had been no objections from her behalf. But what did that mean?

Draco smirked into the darkness and set off down another corridor. He had no problem with it whatsoever.

Hermione Granger was playing right into his hands.

* * *

Till now everything had been perfect. Hermione hadn't caught sight of a single student out of bed. There had been no Slytherins jumping at her from the corner. Nor had she yet bumped into a particular Slytherin prefect she had been escaping. 

Pausing behind a winding pillar, she glanced across the courtyard and was relieved to find nothing but darkness. Malfoy would obviously be somewhere on the opposite side of the school. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was quarter past ten already. Surely Malfoy would have gotten bored and left by now, but Hermione had yet to check the North Tower, the other side of school and the Owelry.

Smiling to herself and finally letting go of the breath she never knew she had been holding, Hermione made to cross the snow-covered courtyard. At least the rain had stopped. She smiled at the sky, deciding that she enjoyed a light snowfall much better than a heavy downpour.

To her eyes, Hogwart looked somewhat peculiar at night. Almost eerie, with a few glow worms seen here and there. But it was cool and quiet. And if she strained hard enough she could make out the hooting of rousing owls at the Owelry.

"You're late."

The voice made her jump nearly five feet into the air with a shriek. Then turning around, she glared at the offender who sat sprawled on a nearby bench with a wand behind his ear.

"You! You just took ten years of my life!" Hermione hissed at a Draco Malfoy, who merely rolled his eyes.

"You're a witch. You have a wand. You're not supposed to be the one scared." Draco said with a strange look on his face.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione ignored his sarcasm.

"I'm patrolling."

"You're sitting on a bench. That's not patrolling."

Drawing his brows in, Draco dug his hands into his pockets, "I walked into the middle of a snog, and I caught a first year trying to sneak around with a fifth year Monster book. Who'd you snatch?"

Still glaring at him, Hermione felt her face heat up, "No one as of yet." She muttered in a small voice. Although she was glad that Malfoy hadn't mentioned anything about their previous meeting, she still wanted to be far, very far from him. His presence was like a cold shower, and it was impossible for her to think straight.

"Sit." Draco motioned towards the empty spot next to him with his jaw.

"No thank you." Hermione said, "We're supposed to be patrolling, not having a chat." She was determined to not allow his gaze make her knees rubbery.

"Well, if you've done that side of the school and I've done this side, we're done aren't we? And I think we'd rather have a _chat_ than go back to bed already." Draco didn't look like he had taken any effort saying any of this at all. But Hermione wanted anything but a chat.

Brushing off the falling snow from her sleeve, she took a step back, "There's still the Owelry to go. You can go back if you want, but I want to check it out." Hermione had almost made to turn around, when she heard a crunch in the snow. From the corner of her eyes, she could see Malfoy walking towards her with a grunt.

"And the next thing Hogwarts will have on their hands is some stupid girl buried in the snow." When he walked past and didn't see her following, he turned to glance over his shoulder, "I'd rather not watch the grass grow Granger."

* * *

There were several things running around in Hermione's head while she followed a step behind Malfoy in the snow. He'd called her stupid. He'd insinuated her as an accident-prone. And he had called her Granger. Not Mudblood. Not bookworm. 

From where she walked, she had a clear view of the back of his blonde head, and snow that covered his shoulders and hair. Against her, he almost gleamed in the snow. He didn't say a work when they reached the stairs, but slowed down so she could reach up first.

There were owls flying in every direction. And if not for the dried droppings and feathers littering the posts, Hermione would have found the view very engaging.

Slowly and very carefully she snuck a glance at Malfoy, and was shaken to find him leaning against the wall to only be staring at her.

"Okay. So there was no one here. It was still a good idea to check." Hermione defended herself with a frown, then turned around to climb back down the stairs.

"What were you doing today? Hiding behind that pillar." His voice was so casual, she almost didn't feel her insides jump.

Hermione turned around slowly. For a few seconds, she watched him to gather the tell-tale signs of a smirk or a sneer or even a smile. But his face was blank. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. She couldn't tell if this was his way of embarrassing her. Because for the past few days, he had been anything but nasty.

"Answer my questions first, and then I'll answer yours."

Draco only shrugged.

But Hermione could feel her insides churning, "Just last week, you sat in the library with me. You followed me when I went to Hagrid's. _Didn't_ curse me for burning your homework saying you _forgave_ me. Then you took me to Madame Pomfrey. And that night, you helped me once again. You—," she looked for a second, "You gave me a hankie for Merlin's sake. Why? Why have you been so…so nice to me?" Hermione believed that was the best way she could have put it. And although she had blurted it all out, Draco Malfoy looked as composed as ever. She was aching to know what made that guy flinch.

She couldn't read anything off his face and it annoyed her. She wanted answers, and she wanted them _now_.

"Why were you crying today?"

"What?" her reply came out as a snap, but her shock covered up any embarrassment this time.

"Pansy told me. You came to the toilets crying, then ran back out. This happened at about seven. I'm guessing it was just before I met you, because practice finished at about seven."

Clutching her robes to her, Hermione scowled at him, "That's none of your business Malfoy. Besides, I'd prefer if you didn't change the subject."

He watched her closely. Almost like he was memorizing her face. "So you were crying." It was a statement.

"Look, I don't see why it should matter to you if I cry, laugh or go insane. Just answer my questions."

Draco pushed back against the wall to walk closer to her. After a quick scan, she realized he didn't have his wand in his hands, but he advanced onto her slowly and poised. He stopped until Hermione could see how the grey of his eyes contrasted with his pupil. The lanterns on the walls flickered lightly.

"I don't have the answer to your questions," Draco reached his hand up to brush back some snow that hung onto the hair on her shoulders. They felt soft against his cold hand, and for an instant he thought he could get away with twirling a strand of that hair. But Draco thought better by just closing in on her until she had to crane her head to look up at him. Her eyes were wide and she was staring at him in mild astonishment. He hadn't planned this, but by the effect he was having on her, he could tell she would be giving in very soon. Then ever so slightly, he touched her cheek. His jaws clenched when he felt its smooth texture.

Blaise had been right. She was lovely. She was a fiery brat with a know-it-all attitude, but she was lovely.

In that moment, Hermione could feel nothing but her own shudder and the closeness of his body. Warmth drenched her like rain, and a sharp quiver ran down her spine. Feeling her stomach lighten then harden, she fought back the uneasiness with a gulp. He was so close she could smell him through the cold waft. Like musk. Like the pine trees in the forbidden forest and the little white flowers that adorned the forest floor. It was subtle but just enough to make her light-headed. It was intoxicating.

"Why not?" Hermione found herself squeaking. To her surprise, she didn't find it foul that his fingers still lingered on her cheek. She didn't feel like she needed to run or take out her wand and curse him. She found it unable to move because her knees had turned into rubber, and his presence became so overwhelming that she ached to grab his sleeve and stop herself from loosing her footing.

He never answered her questions. Instead, he said, "Come to the ball with me."

To say she wasn't shocked was wrong.

Hermione found herself blinking several times at that stoic face. Her further silence made a small smirk pull at his full lips.

"I'm not asking to get hitched or anything. Just to the ball."

She couldn't believe it. She refused to believe in what he had just asked. She absolutely refused to believe that the Slytherin prince had just asked his most hated enemy after Harry Potter out. To a Hogwarts ball where everyone would be present. To a ball. To a dance where he would have to hold her. To a dance as a date. Draco Malfoy had asked her out. _Draco Malfoy_.

Hermione never believed she'd ever seen Malfoy hopeful over an answer from her. When she found her voice after half a minute of an intense mind freeze, an uncertain look had passed over the boy's face.

"We can't." she blurted, but that might have been the wrong thing to say. Because the second her words came out, his face contorted in this funny way. Hermione realized it might have been the sting of rejection.

"Why?" the hand on her cheek fell, and the Gryffindor felt the fire in her stomach die out. Its like his body had suddenly gone rigid, and the playfulness in his voice had disappeared. He moved a step back.

"Because…" she felt nervousness hitting her. Although there wasn't a reason for her to be nervousness. "Because Richard Crench has already asked me." Her confession was so soft, she almost felt for a second that he hadn't heard her. But he had.

He had, because his eyes narrowed for a moment. His jaws slackened before they tightened. And his pupils dilated every so slightly. "From Hufflepuff?" he sounded like a stone.

"Yes." She murmured. But as she stared at him, she realized she had done something very wrong. His eyes were speaking strange words and she couldn't decipher them. His face was void of any playfulness. He looked like a stone. And it was tearing her up from inside.

Draco nodded slowly, "Okay." He turned back a couple more steps, shuffling his hands into his pockets. Then he turned around, shielding his eyes from being seen, "Good night then."

"Good…" Hermione was lost for words. He never gave her a chance to complete her words. He never gave her a chance to voice out her sudden seconds thoughts. Because before she knew it, he was gone.

She didn't realized it, but she might have stayed rooted onto that same spot for several minutes, replaying the scene over and over in her head. Replaying the emotions running through the eyes of the Slytherin. What was it she had seen in there? Anger? Rejection? Surprise? There was something on his face that had made the cogs of her mind turn back. Was it _longing_…?

Her insides gave a wrench as she looked up. Without thinking twice, Hermione dashed down the Owlery entrance, running down the slippery stairs sometimes twice in one go. Maybe if she caught up to him. Maybe if she asked him why. Maybe if she asked him to explain. She didn't know what she was going to ask, but she ran. She just had to catch up to him.

But running wasn't enough. By the time Hermione reached the bottom of the stairs, he was out of sight. She ran trudging through the deep snow, but Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. She could see his footprints, but not the Slytherin himself.

He was gone.

Leaving her feeling extremely miserable.

* * *

He couldn't understand what he was feeling inside. But it was like a roar. His insides were a havoc. He was mad. Pissed beyond hell. He wanted to find this Richard and curse him until every little piece of him had disappeared the face of this world. 

Yes. Draco Malfoy was mad.

And even madder knowing he couldn't do one damn thing about it.

He had lost to a Hufflepuff. Just when he thought he had gotten her, he had come to realize that he never really had her to begin with.

"_Damn her!_"

Slamming open the Slytherin portrait door, Draco glared at the blazing fire in his empty common room. It had all gone wrong. It had all gone completely _wrong!_

He had been unable to get Hermione Granger. He had been unable to make her his date. And she…that stupid wretched girl…she had…she had somehow managed to make him fall for her.

Draco Malfoy had fallen utterly in love with that incompetent little girl.

* * *

Hermione didn't find it very easy going to bed that night. After she had crept back into her dormitory, she had quietly changed and slipped under her covers, thankful for the heating pans underneath her covers. Then she had begun her tossing and turning. It was impossible to get sleep. It was impossible to forget how his presence had felt. 

Draco Malfoy had asked her to the ball. And she had rejected him.

He had touched her cheek. And she had liked it.

He had smiled at her. And she had thought it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

* * *

**§ђϊη§зϊ-Кσќσѓσ**

**A/N: **_Okay well, I'm back for the time being. I'm adamant on not abandoning any of my fics as of yet, but lets see. Lol as you guys might have seen, I repeated a scene off the book. Harry had asked out Cho at the owelery too! Lol sorry about that. Anyways, this fic has one more chapter to go before I complete it. Hope you enjoyed it so far. And speaking of the book, I can't wait for the last book to be out. Bye guys!_


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